


Senses

by enigmatic_fossil



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overwatch - Freeform, Slow Burn, blood mention, death mention, mild violence, slow burn genyatta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9875360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmatic_fossil/pseuds/enigmatic_fossil
Summary: What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.-Ralph Waldo Emerson





	1. Chapter 1

_“I do what is necessary.” The voice was a breath of ice on his soul, “Genji, you are a disgrace our clan, your family, with your way of life.”_

_“I have done nothing, if the Shimada clan can be crumbled by one person, then perhaps it is not as strong and proud as it claims.”_

_The sting to his face left far deeper wounds; he wiped blood from his lip, their clashing a burning pit of dragon fire._

_“You do not dishonor your name that way! You have more influence than you know, you are a son of this clan!”_

_“I did not ask for this burden.” He did not want it._

_“That is irrelevant, I have no choice, if you will not help me and rule the Shimada clan by my side—it was our dream Genji, father would have—“_

_“That was and has always been your dream, not mine.”_

_“Then you are no brother of mine.”_

_Dragon fire raged, the roars of the legends fueling their anger, and then there was darkness._

_. . ._

A gentle breeze hummed over the green hill, bringing him to consciousness again with a soft whirr of mechanics.  Rich, golden hues bathed the surrounding area in evening light and left hints of warmth as the air began to cool.  With the lazy sway of the grass, the image displayed in his frame of vision painted a picture of peace and serenity, melting away the dark atmosphere of his dream.  In such a radiant, natural place, almost anyone would be able to feel comfort and oneness with the world.

He, however, scowled behind a mask as he gazed down at the metal casings of his hands.  A robotic appendage, resting atop an equally robotic knee, left no sense of humanity. Despite the evening lighting giving warm highlights to the smooth white casings, all he saw was cold unfeeling metal.  Hollow of anything resembling the human he once was.

Genji hated these hands.

As the rest of his sensors thrummed to life, he picked up on the presence a few feet to his left.  He’d nearly forgotten it was there, but the reminder made his shoulders slump in dismay as he turned his visor hidden gaze to glance over.

The omnic, in his seated position, hovered a few inches off of the ground in near perfect stillness.  He made no motion to indicate he knew the other had awoken and was deep in a trance, even if he appeared stationary.  His sparse clothing was ragged, and his metal body that was scratched with age and time was less refined than Genji’s.  Inner workings and wires were clearly visible and the humanoid shape did not hide the reality that he was absolutely a machine.  And yet, it eluded him how the omnic seemed to reflect and radiate the sun’s waning rays, while his own body absorbed and silenced it like a shadow.

It was annoying; and the omnic himself was even more of an irritant.  The mere fact that this unusual robotic being, claiming he hailed as a monk from a monastery in Nepal, managed to have an air of humanity that just didn’t suit what he actually was frustrated him.  And worse off, Genji couldn’t seem to get rid of him.  No matter how much he tried to offer nothing more than a cold shoulder, and a closed off mind to anything he said.    
  
In fact, he hadn’t really addressed him at all.  He didn’t even know his name, nor did the monk know his.  And even when he did bother to respond, he was short and curt in response to the other’s frustratingly gentle words.

And still, he didn’t leave.

While Genji brooded over the quiet insistence of the other to accompany him in his travels, the grouping of nine cyan lights that dotted the monk’s forehead flickered to life.  He lifted his head, soft clicks and hisses of his body settling into motion a clear indication of what he was; he made “eye contact” with Genji.  At least, what he assumed were eyes.  The assumption he had of his eyes were likely optic sensors behind the angled cuts of metal.  These were things he could only speculate.

Genji didn’t know for sure, but he felt like the omnic was smiling.

“It seems your own meditation gave way to sleep, my friend.” He noted, in that irritatingly calm voice of his.  “I do hope it was peaceful?”

Omnics’ spoke with clearly robotic tones; there was no getting around it, so why did this one have such an unnerving effect on him.  He looked away, humming curtly in response to his question. Genji couldn’t say he’d had deep prejudice against omnics before, but being made into something of an omnic and human combination made him unreasonably bitter.  He wasn’t readily willing to admit that he had trouble accepting the new half of himself.

“It was fine.” He finally said when the omnic didn’t speak, assuming he was waiting for his response.

Chancing a sideways glance, he saw that the monk was gazing out at the scenery before him, looking positively tranquil.  Genji followed the gaze, looking positively aggravated in comparison, his own form of defiance.  Like fire and water side by side, he almost felt the need to shift away so as not to be drowned.  He quelled the feeling and remained still.

“This place is untroubled by the conflict of the world, here the iris is strong.” The monk said, lacing his fingers together on his lap.

Genji thought he sounded like those riddle spouting characters from the stories, the wise old masters that were supposed to be all-knowing and helpful but really made no sense.  They relied on thought provoking statements, and vague advice that rarely made sense until after the precise moment it would have been of use.

“One could sleep easy here, swept away into dreams, I do not blame you—if you did indeed sleep easy.”

His tone was knowing, and completely without shame.  Clearly he did not believe the unimpressive response Genji had given him regarding the ‘fine’ sleep he had.

“Tch.” Genji stood, ready to wander for a while before nightfall and find shelter, and also to avoid being psychoanalyzed by robot-Ghandi.  Besides, his dreams were of little concern to someone who did not understand their relevance to his history, and that was something he was even less willing to share.

He was aware of the other drifting behind him quietly, not speaking but seeming comfortable in the mutual silence.  He would be unnervingly invisible if it were not for the sound caused by his floating and the barely noticeable shifts of mechanics. They wandered along for at least an hour before Genji couldn’t take the silence anymore; the monk usually would speak or impart his ‘wisdom’ in various, appropriately spaced moments.  Instead, he was unusually silent.

He stopped abruptly and turned to face the monk who, to his surprise, was looking directly at him.  At least, it felt like it, he felt he could rightly assume so based on where his head faced.  It took him aback and he lost his words for a moment, being faced with such a directed gaze that felt deeply probing.

“Why are you still following me?” He demanded, gaining some ground of his own again, watching the other through his visor.

“I am drawn by your troubled spirit, and I found your aura burning a hole in the universe around you and seek to repair it.” The monk responded, undeterred by his harsh tone.

“My thoughts are not your business-“

“Of course they are not, I have kept my nose clear of them.” He said, amused by his own use of the idiom that did not suit his physical traits.

Genji glared incredulously behind his mask, unsure of how the monk could find humor now of all times, “How can you claim to know my troubles if you know not of my thoughts.”

“Do you not find those things clear in others?  Empathy is a powerful tool; your presence speaks volumes about your soul.” He noted, honestly, “You are lost and wandering, with no clear destination, I saw it was clear that you are troubled deeply beyond the realm of your own understanding.”

“I am not lost.” Genji insisted.

“Ah, then I suppose I am interested in the conclusion of your long journey my friend.”

“And I am not your friend, why are you still here? I have not made you welcome.” He pressed, unsettled by the other still finding reason to be around him.  Though it was deeply motivated by his lack of belief any soul at all would want to be around him, not after what he had become.

The omnic tilted his head, still ever at ease. “Do you wish me to depart?”  He was not easily discouraged by the cyborgs attempts at evasive maneuvers, attempting to coerce a direct answer.

Genji was thrown off again, having not been given the option and embarrassingly aware of the fact that he’d never asked the other to leave.  Nor had the omnic done anything harmful to provoke him.  And this was the first time he had spoken frankly with him to inquire of his motives.  Which, as he learned, were harmless albeit naïve.  If he truly believed he could save him, he was sorely mistaken.

He let out a begrudging sigh, “Why do you feel that it is in your interest to help me, you do not even know my name?”

“I believed you would give it when you felt it was my business to know.” He mused. “Though if you will give it, I would be honored to have it, as it would be better than cyborg ninja.”

“And when was it my business to know yours?” Genji retaliated, irritated at the playful jesting of the other.

“You did not ask.” He swore he saw a twinkle in the omnic’s eye, “Do you wish to know? You had no interest or use for it so I did not want to bother you with its irrelevance.”

There was a hiss and release of steam built up from frustration at the others constant counter’s to his arguments, a childish nature that he hadn’t quite lost boiling up in him at not getting the answers he wanted.

“And could you stop being so cryptic, who are you?” He snapped, rising impatience causing his native language to filter in and out of use more frequently.  
  
The monk had found a spider on the fabric over his knee and seemed distracted.  He laid a finger out for the small being urging it to crawl on before he released it with care into the grass.  The action was so—unnecessary and a reflection of the humanity the monk somehow possessed.    
  
Once satisfied with the safety of the arachnid, he placed his hands in his lap, his peaceful nature evident in the subtle rise and fall of his floating position, completely at odds with the inferno of emotions raging inside Genji that grounded him firmly in the dirt at his feet.

“Tekhartha Zenyatta.”

Was it another philosophy? Something else evasive and foreign, he felt another bout of irritation rising to the top.  Gearing up to lash out at this strange omnic, who didn’t seem to realize just how out of balance the tempest was in his soul, Genji clenched his fists and a soft scrape of metal armed him with three shuriken.

“Though, if it suits you, you may call me Zenyatta.”

He could still feel the smile the other directed at him, even though it wasn’t physically evident on his face.  Genji had to stifle the emotions, and his weapons, as he realized the other was giving him his name and not just messing with his head again.  He quickly collected himself, instilling at least a bare sense of calm on his mind.

“Then, Zenyatta, if you say I had no use for your name, why feel obligated place all of your unnecessary wisdom on me? I did not ask for it, for the same reason I did not ask your name.” He said, trying to find a loophole, a flaw in his logic to poke out.  Though there were fragments of dishonesty as he’d been wondering what the omnic’s name was for days, not liking having a stranger following him about with nothing to call him.

“Oh but it was necessary, the iris sees your turmoil and there is wisdom in shedding light on the darkness you struggle to escape…” The omnic paused, with a hand cupping his chin, “Perhaps my imparted wisdom would have been better served when you were ready to hear it. I suppose that I cannot deny selfish reasons, I hoped that maybe my presence could curb your loneliness. That may have been an overconfidence of my own capabilities, but my intentions were good.”

He resigned these thoughts to Genji, who was again taken aback by the strange way of being the other had.  Even though he was built omnic, his freethinking and admission to faulty thought was so human that it was unsettling. He was having a hard time differentiating the robot from the living being without growing confused, the imbalance inside himself growing with it.  Which one of them was more human?

“An understatement; and clearly you have overconfidence in my own capability to have friends.” He agreed, folding his arms against his chest.

“I don’t think you realize the warmth you retain inside—“

Genji snapped his gaze in his direction, “There is none, it was stripped of me with my body.  Now I’m nothing more than a machine.”

Zenyatta was not offended by the claim, but he was curious, “Hmm, I suppose if that is what you define yourself as.  If you truly only see a cold, heartless machine, that is what you will become.  Your pain says otherwise, you ache because you struggle to accept that what you have become is still capable of humanity.”

Genji opened and closed his mouth, void of retort or argument.  The other had been hinting at it, but clearly hit the nail on the head with the brutality of his statement. The wound broke open and he felt the problem reinstate itself at the forefront of his mind.  And it hurt, if he still felt the wilting emotions he had when he was betrayed and first forced to accept this unfair second life, he would have shed tears there in front of the omnic.

Zenyatta did not press him after that, letting the other fall into silent acceptance of his problem. He had awaited Genji’s acknowledgement of his struggle for some time while he had traveled by his side.  And he knew once Genji accepted the storm he was caught up in, that he would be able to help him.  He wanted to desperately; he was not lying when he had confessed he felt drawn to the cyborg.  There was a beautiful soul crying out inside of him, begging for the crushing weight of internalized discourse to finally end.

If only the cyborg would drop some of his bravado—and learn to trust someone else.

“Genji.”

Zenyatta perked up, “Genji, I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He sighed audibly, “I do not see why, I’m just a shell of what I once was.”

“Do you find me to be as empty and hollow?”

Taken aback, Genji tried to find word to avoid offending the monk, though he was not sure why he needed to defend his thoughts.  Omnic’s were robots, certainly they couldn’t go behind their programming.  Even as he thought it, he was never convinced of it.

He back pedaled, “That’s not-.”

“I am not offended, Genji.” Zenyatta reassured him, “But perhaps you mistake the soul as something only attached to flesh and bone.  Yet here I am, having cognitive conversation with you.  I am capable beyond processors and programming to learn, feel and experience the world as you do and as you once did.”

Scoffing, the ever skeptical cyborg shook his head, “I am no more human than you, look at us, we cannot exist as humans do.  We cannot see as they do, enjoy food and drink, smell the grass—we cannot even feel as they do.  Touch is evasive, empty, only made up of pressure and processes that keep us aware of our surroundings.  We are no more than weapons made to fight for mankind…”

“You mean to tell me that you have forgotten how to touch?” The monk seemed perplexed, albeit in a knowing way, “Do I appear as a weapon to you?”

“I didn’t—forget, I cannot do it.  Sensors only do so much.” He said, scoffing at the feeling of being chastised, “And, well, no you do not.  But that was the reason you were created wasn’t it?”

“I cannot be sure of what thoughts went into my creation, but like you I was born into this world under specific circumstances, and through experience and simply living, I became part of something greater.  Surely you have not lost that, you are not who you were when you were born, does that make you incapable of changing again?”

The psychological probing was beginning to overwhelm and frustrate him.

“Very well, since you seem so confident, why don’t you teach me how?” He said, scornfully.

To the omnic, it felt there was a change in the winds, a lost soul finally crying out for solace. Zenyatta was humbled as the time had come for Genji to begin his rebirth, and he was truly graced by the iris to be a privileged part of it.  He vowed to himself that he would put himself forth into this without refrain or hesitation, for the troubled cyborg would need his all.

Genji saw the response written on his face; and there it was again, the twinkle in the optic slit on the omnic’s face.  He cursed his foolishness to challenge him, now he would never leave.  Though for some reason, and he would deny it, his words gave him a glimmer of hope and against his better judgement he was beginning to believe him.

“I would be delighted to.” Though he lacked expression, it would seem that Zenyatta was brimming with barely concealed joy."

“Let us begin my student.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anger, resentment and jealousy doesn't change the heart of others-- it only changes yours.” 
> 
> ― Shannon L. Alder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait! A lot of things came up and I couldn't update on Wednesday like I was hoping. Moving right along~ I'll figure out an update schedule eventually.

“We begin with Muladhara, the root chakra, the basis of you and your connection to this world.  You have become closed off, broken by the trials you have faced, and opening your chakra will bare the roots of your pain, and you can begin understanding who you were and accepting what you have become.”  
  
Genji stared up at the hovering omnic, as he lectured him in words that still evaded him in the answers he sought.     
  
It had been five days since he agreed to allow the monk to accompany him on his journey in an attempt to teach him how to feel again in this new form.  Zenyatta had insisted they continue into the wilderness for the time being, expressing that he wanted them to have solitude and peace and avoid the distractions of the world.   
  
“This time, we will uncover the reasons for your anger, then you will begin healing without those restraints.”   
  
“I know why I am angry.” Genji interjected.   
  
“You do not know the source.” Zenyatta corrected, “You recognize that you are angry because what you have experienced is unfair, but there is something deeper.  You will find it if you seek it within instead of projecting the blame elsewhere.”   
  
Genji felt that earned the monk a sharp look, hands clenching on his knees.   
  
“You say I am at fault for what has happened?”   
  
“No, of course not Genji.” Zenyatta’s voice turned soft and empathetic, “What happened to you was not your fault, you did not choose your suffering; but the wounds it inflicted on your soul are still gaping, you have not allowed them to heal as there is something in you withholding the comforts of peace.”   
  
Genji scoffed, but loosened his posture as the omnic had at least acknowledged he was not to be blamed for his physical condition.   
  
“Begin by relaxing your feet.”   
  
He found that concept odd as his feet were metal, unfeeling and automated, this was not going to be a simple task to imagine he could actually feel them.  However, he still managed to find himself in a trance, following the calm words of the other leading him to his center.   
  
The ever flowing sound of water bubbling from under pebbles, and running against the banks, was beginning to grate on his concentration.  Occasionally, the splash of fish reaching the surface to seek a meal would break the continuous sound of running water.  Otherwise, it remained consistent and unfaltering, making sounds blend into empty white noise.   
  
“I don’t understand.” Genji’s exasperation radiated through his words, visor lighting up as he lowered his hands onto his folded legs gazing hard at the ground.   
  
Beside him, Zenyatta shifted in mechanical clicks and the cyborg could feel his patient, sympathetic gaze on him which only made him cringe.   
  
“Perhaps a break is in order?” The omnic offered, ever benevolent to his struggles.   
  
It made it hard to hate him but he still tried to, or at least be perpetually annoyed by his unyielding optimism.  Still, he’d grown a slight less impatient in recognition of the time the omnic remained at his side regardless of how he was treated. He had to admire his tolerance, considering he had started off less than willing.   
  
“I suppose…” He conceded, standing up and walking over to the water’s edge, his steps knocking a small pebble into the stream.  He watched it tumble down the bank and heard the small plop as it hit the water.   
  
Even still he wondered the point of this, how was meditation supposed to help him find this peace Zenyatta insisted he seek out? Especially with the noise of this place, his mind had reeled with the excess stimulation as it only seemed to grow louder the more quiet they were.     
  
Every time they had a session of simple meditation, Genji completed his long before the other.   
  
He could not fathom how Zenyatta did it, remain there in meditation for hours likely without the need to speak, or move around.  Genji could just assume it was because he was an omnic, void of the concept of mental exhaustion.  However, that assumption meant he couldn’t feel as a human did, and already the cyborg was less confident in that frame of mind.   
  
The presence of the monk alerted his sensors as he drifted to float beside him admiring the stream.  There was no sound of him breathing, nor lungs to facilitate it, and yet he released a sigh and laced his hands together on his lap.  A common sight of ease in the omnic.   
  
“You are troubled, my student, in such a tranquil place.” Zenyatta said, gaze directed still at the river, “Your focus is lost because you do not allow your mind to be taken with the flow of life.”   
  
“I don’t understand.” Genji repeated his earlier statement.   
  
He had found being sarcastic or poking at the monk’s tendency for being cryptic only got him teased with more vague responses.  He felt like Zenyatta had enjoyed toying with him at first, but had begun to learn that he simply found humor in imposing more philosophy, as if he was further proving Genji’s internalized belief that he was awfully enigmatic.   
  
“You refuse change, Genji.”   
  
Behind his mask, his expression turned incredulous, turning his head to gaze at him sharply.   
  
“I do not see how you can say so, I have changed.” His retort was childish and insistent, “Against my own will I have changed into what I am, and lost everything that I was.”   
  
“Not so my student.”   
  
He sighed deeply, and steeled himself against his irritation and anger, something Zenyatta’s presence had ‘taught’ him to do.  If he were to get answers and understand, he needed to be patient and to listen.   
  
“Then how, tell me how I have refused change.” He said, carefully.   
  
The monk hummed softly, in a manner that suggested he had enjoyed a soft breeze that flowed by.  Genji felt nothing, beyond the sensors reading back to him the temperature and speed of the air current, it still evaded him how a metal body could enjoy it.   
  
“The physical and life style changes wrought upon you were tragic to who you were, the reason they haunt you so is because you have not accepted who you are now and your new place in the universe.”   
  
When Zenyatta finally spoke, and Genji mulled over his words, he still felt confusion and hesitation.   
  
“Why should I accept what has happened to me? It was not my design, it was not fair--”   
  
“No, but fair or not, that does not change what hand you have been dealt.  Regardless of those things, it was your design to continue living.” The monk mused, “You are here, you still have something to live for it seems? Perhaps that is the root of your anger.”   
  
Genji tensed, and a wave of emotions boiled through him and broke; anger, betrayal, hurt.  All of them formulating one clear and powerful thought.   
  
Revenge.

 

\---

  
_Pain; fiery, burning pain._   
  
_‘Why--Hanzo…’_   
  
_Excruciating pain._   
  
_Before the numbness kicked in and his senses went silent._   
  
_There were voices around him, deafening, screaming in his ears and rattling his mind.  He cried, but nothing came out, no sound could be produced.  He was vaguely aware of the sting of tears in his eyes, certain that they were spilling out._   
  
_Things became clearer, voices leveled out in a calm that directly opposed the fear and confusion he felt._   
  
_“The patient remains stable Doctor Ziegler, but his condition...it is unlikely a full recovery can be made.”_   
  
_“Mm, I need some sutures over here before I activate the biotic stream.  All patients that have life left in them have a chance, we must persevere.”_   
  
_“Yes Doctor.”_   
  
_Doctor? He was--_   
  
_He tried to feel, to sense, to open his eyes and find where he was.  All he saw was darkness, and he felt nothing.  His body was numb to the world around him, even as he became vaguely aware of shadows hovered about him, he couldn’t make them out._   
  
_Genji tried to speak again, only air left his lungs as he mentally pleaded for answers.  But the figures had no answers for him, unaware of his state of consciousness.  He felt fear envelope him as he desperately wished to die._   
  
_Then, there was a bright glow, a sun-colored light.  He wasn’t sure what it was but somehow it brought him ease, for now._   
  
_All hope was not lost._

_  
\--- _

 

Legs folded, he sat again on the grassy bank with Zenyatta, hands resting on his knees as he took a breath in and out slowly allowing his eyes to close.  Again, he was going to try this again.  
  
‘ _Allow the sounds of the world to flow through you, the water is both chaotic and peaceful, ever moving and changing just as you are.  You have known the chaos, now seek the peace by releasing control_.’   
  
‘ _Accept the flow as it is, hear it and don’t shut it out when it becomes too much, don’t will the sounds of the water to become calm when what is within you is anything but.  The iris will feel your rage and help you understand it._ ’   
  
Genji replayed the monk’s words in his head, repeatedly silencing the part of him that argued it would never work.  He would humor him, and refuse to admit he yearned for it to succeed.  He wanted to believe this omnic could save him.   
  
The water lulled him into calm, just as it had before.  The serenity, that he desperately hoped to hold onto this time, eased in.  But it wasn’t long before he felt it again, the chorus of sound around him rising.  Pounding in his head getting louder and louder.  His mind fought them off, resisting, trying to go numb so as not to go deaf first.   
  
Still he sat there, refusing to give into anything.   
  
‘You’re resisting.’   
  
Though he wasn’t speaking to him, Genji created the voice in his mind, and he felt he was sitting in an endless space with the monk, the water crashing around them.   
  
‘How am I resisting? I don’t understand.’   
  
‘You rely too much on controlling the world you live in and the self you lost, let it go.’   
  
‘If I’m not in control, what do I have anymore? I have nothing if not control.  Without the promise of vengeance, what do I have?’ Genji insisted.   
  
‘Freedom, my student.  You have the freedom to start over, stop holding onto everything and let the sound of the water wash it away.’   
  
‘I can’t, if I forget I--’   
  
‘You will lose nothing of value by letting go of that which haunts you.’   
  
The monk’s voice filled his mind, providing a warmth in contrast to the cold of his defiant spirit.  He sought it out, begging for clarity and understanding.   
  
And he felt it then, like a wave clearing the sand he’d been drawing in, outlining his pain and loss across the beach.  And suddenly everything stopped for a moment, the tide ebbing, and he looked upon the blank slate he had been presented with.   He struggled a moment, with the urge to write out his troubles again, but the words did not come to him.  The fight was gone, seeing all of it washed away like it was nothing, destroyed his will to build it all up again. With the basis of all that was holding up his fury and anguish being revenge, it had piled on top of weak foundations and it took nothing but a simple rising tide to tumble it.   
  
He was drifting now, weightless, realizing all of the burden he had taken on in his time.  Gathering the bleak, negative energies and piling them on his shoulders as he trudged through his new life while clinging to the one he had before.     
  
Why he had pined for it, he would never understand after this moment, for even if he had it again the outcome would be the same.  This is where destiny had led him and trying to seize back things as they were was an impossible dream that would only result in a very rehearsed nightmare.   
  
The river eventually led him, drifting back into reality where he realized dried tears were burning his eyes, having shed his pains freely while lost in a deeply meditative state.  He blinked briefly, visor beaming to life as he lifted his head and took in the area around him.  To his surprise, the sun was setting now, and the grass was beginning to cool.   
  
He felt the gaze of the other, and turned full around as he stood quickly.  For once, grateful that this inhuman body stabilized him, for if not he would have stumbled and fell right into the water.     
  
Zenyatta hovered there patiently waiting for him, and it seemed like he was smiling.  Genji brought himself down, bowing himself humbly before him, the experience he just had becoming the beginnings of his journey to self-acceptance.  This action seemed to surprise the omnic, who hummed in confusion.   
  
“I--I am sorry for coldness, my cruelty towards you.” He gripped at the grass, on his hands and knees in ashamed humility.   
  
The remorse of all of the things that he had let define him, all of the vengeful aggression he had projected on Zenyatta and many others who had come before to try and help him, weighed heavy on his heart.  He sought to destroy the monsters of his past and yet they were nearly all within himself, still festering and scrambling for purchase.   
  
“Thank you, my master.”   
  
Zenyatta’s laugh was real and warm, and as it slowed, the kindness in his voice was something he found he would hold dear instead of abhor.   
  
“Master? I am but a simple teacher. Come, Genji, even as my student you do not need to put yourself below me.”  He reached for him, taking his shoulder to lift him back up,  “It is I that will be grateful to experience your transcendence into a new life.”   
  
Genji bowed his head a moment, “You have too much faith in me, I have said and done many things that I am not proud of.  Things I regret and I fear that they make me unfit for this life you see for me.  How can I ever be anything more--than a broken fool.”   
  
“Nonsense.” Zenyatta insisted, “The mere fact that you recognize these things is already the means by which you will heal and find peace.  Faults do not equate to your worthiness at a new start.”   
  
He patted his shoulder softly, reaching down to offer him a hand.  Genji accepted it, and was pulled to his feet again, before Zenyatta folded his hands back in his lap.   
  
“And one day, those mistakes you made will be addressed, the iris will provide you the opportunity to do what is best to right wrongs.”   
  
Genji’s brows furrowed behind his mask, “I do not know, Master…”   
  
It was a tall order, to be sure, righting things with all of those who had offered him help wasn’t going to happen overnight.   
  
Zenyatta chuckled again, “Eventually you will, these uncertainties are what you make of them, so your own conviction will be what saves you.  I am simply a guide, you will understand in time what you are capable of.”   
  
“You have so much faith in me, I do not wish to let you down.”   
  
Genji watched the monk shake his head, and sigh in an amused exasperation.     
  
Zenyatta was eased by Genji’s change, the humility he expressed, but he still had so far to go.  There were inklings of the lingering doubts and animosity towards the one who put him here.  Even without the desire for vengeance, forgiveness was still to be had.   
  
“It is you whom you must not let down, my student.”   
  
Genji mulled over those words. Zenyatta was not entirely wrong, but now that he had seen a glimpse of the peace the monk spoke of, he could feel the indebted yearnings rising in him.   
  
“I guess so, but--”   
  
Zenyatta chided him lightly, “If you so deeply wish to please me, then first please yourself.  It will be enough that I know I have not failed you in offering my guidance.”  
  
The monk sighed, bowing his head slightly, “Forgive my interruption, but I do not want your path to healing to be broken by the opinions of any, including myself.  All that I wish to do is to help you know yourself, and love what is there.  That does not require my blessing to achieve.”   
  
Genji resigned the rest of his arguments, conceding to the omnic for the time being.   
  
“What now?” He asked, seeking his guidance with willingness.   
  
“A healthy rest of course, and then we return promptly to your meditations.”   
  
Genji stared at him, and would have been agape, “But--after that I thought-?”   
  
Tsking softly, wagging finger at him, though the mild scolding only thinly veiled the amused whimsy of the gesture, “You have barely scratched the surface, I doubt fully that you could outlast me.”   
  
The cyborg stared at him with pause, a strange feeling drifting to the surface at the others taunt, meant to motivate and challenge him.  Something he couldn’t refuse, and for a moment he was on level with the monk, the wise knowledge of experience no longer separating them in the face of a silly gamble.  And he matched his spirited offering with determination.   
  
“Then I make it my solemn oath that before you depart from me, I will become the master of myself and we will see who the student really is.”   
  
Zenyatta laced his long fingers, and there it was again, the smile.  Genji felt it in his mind and soul even though he could not see it on his face, and beneath it a hint of knowing that the monk always seemed to possess.   
  
“I believe we have a deal.”   
  
Genji extended his hand toward him, insistence in the gesture.  Zenyatta observed the hand a moment before reaching out and clasping it, the soft clash of metal to metal.   
  
“You know, it is not in the nature of Shambali monks to make bets or bargain with the over-confidence of our students.” He mused.   
  
“Hmm, I suppose you can call it your lesson plan then.”   
  
Zenyatta laughed, and Genji smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.” 
> 
> ― May Sarton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to be shooting for weekly Thursday updates, but I can't hold my breath because I'm terrible at deadlines.
> 
> Anyway~ new chapter! And I want to thank all of the kind words of support I have received, I'm positively floored by the words you have shared <3

_3...2...1._   
  
Genji straightened his back, planting his fist in his palm and releasing a slow, controlled breath as he bowed his head, steam escaping from the exhausts on his body.  In the grassy clearing, alone, the cyborg was able to partake in pieces of his former self through rigorous physical training.  
  
Fitting himself into his stance again, he envisioned his opponent in the training dummy he had rigged up from timber he gathered off of fallen trees.  Closing his eyes, the daylight faded into the darkness behind his lids, before he could envision the world he sought.  
  
Nighttime darkness was gently illuminated by the stone lanterns and the shine of the moon.  The trees had bloomed beautifully that year, and the petals drifting lazily to the ground gave the scenery a whimsical flair.  But the air itself was devoid of frivolity of any kind as his opponent came into focus.

Genji’s eyes opened, and he lunged at the dummy.  

Act, without hesitation, breath out as you drive toward your goal and your body will be weightless.  Inhale and throw your weight into your strike, parry, then roll.  It wasn’t the same as a real fight, but in his mind’s eye, he could envision it.  In his memories, he could taste the bitter air and feel the sheen of sweat on his brow.  
  
The clash of weapons and sting of old wounds brought sensation and feeling to his body.  And the emotions burned in his chest as he remembered that these were all things he lost because of one person.  Because flesh and blood had lost itself to pride…  
  
His energy drained and eventually the fight with him.  Genji sunk to his knees, fists clenched and jaw aching from the tension.  
  
“I can’t forgive you…”  
  
It was enough for the day, he thought as he got to his feet and took leave.  He didn’t want to bundle up more emotions than necessary, because he knew his companion would notice.  And while he had accepted that revenge was the root of his issues, and had accepted he would have to learn to let it go to move forward, he could not find forgiveness inside of him for the one who put him here.

And if he had to take it out on a wooden dummy, then so be it.

Zenyatta said it was normal, that there were not many in the world whom forgiveness came easy to.  He seemed more than confident that it would come to Genji once he felt acceptance for his new form, but the cyborg had a hard time believing that.  
  
Still, that one taste of the peace the monk had promised him through meditation had not only given him an immense respect for the other, but a craving for this comfort.  He sought it out and sometimes he would reach it when he honed in his patience.  It wasn’t a constant, meditation hadn’t become easy, but Zenyatta assured him with time he would gain control.

Arriving at their ‘camp’, he found the monk particularly entranced with a caterpillar that crawled over his plated fingertips.    
  
“Master?” Genji said, a natural instinct to warn him of his presence so as not to startle him.  
  
Even though he knew Zenyatta’s sensors were just as good, if not more keen, than his own.  
  
“Genji.” He responded in acknowledgement, kind and welcoming, “How was your training?”

“Invigorating, master.”  
  
The monk didn’t tear his gaze from the small creature on his his hand, not wanting a mechanism to shift as it crawled along, resulting in accidental destruction the poor thing.  Genji sat beside him, watching the omnic with curious fascination, almost with the same intrigue that the other had with the brightly colored insect, almost.  
  
“I never liked bugs.” Genji admitted.  
  
“It seems something so small causes such discomfort for things bigger than it as it is difficult to keep track of.” The monk mused, “While few insects do seek humans to cause harm for their own benefit, a caterpillar simply exists to be reborn.  It is a marvel of life, it lives as a glutton, and eats itself into a sleep where it is broken down and rebuilt.”  
  
He turned his hand over to allow the bug to crawl on the other side, over metal joints and to his solid palm.  
  
“And then, for it’s trouble, it is given wings to see the world in ways it never could before.”  
  
“At least the caterpillar becomes something beautiful.” Genji reminded.  
  
He felt a sense that the words were directed at him, though he wasn’t positive Zenyatta meant to, but it still resonated within him.  As if he was once the caterpillar, unassuming with simple pleasures and wants...but he was no butterfly.  
  
“Hmm, beauty is subjective, my student.  Why one may find the butterfly beautiful, could be the very reason that it becomes a meal to another.”  
  
Zenyatta reached out to allow the caterpillar to crawl onto a leafy plant beside him.  
  
“I, for one, marvel at the butterfly, as well do I marvel the caterpillar.  But the beauty in the butterfly is that it came from such small beginnings, and it deserves to be praised for surviving that change.”

  
Genji felt a burn on his disfigured face at the omnic’s uniquely worded compliment.  He turned his gaze forward and locked his hands together on his lap, so they wouldn’t subconsciously wander to his faceplate or sheepishly rub the back of his neck.  He should be used to compliments, he’d been given numerous back when he was whole, did he really hate himself that much?  
  
Or maybe it was the way the monk worded things that painted such vibrant pictures, that perhaps even for a moment he could see the good the monk saw in him?  
  
“Perhaps we could enjoy a ‘stroll’, before the sun sets.” The monk suggested through the silence, as he gestured down the haphazard paths carved by animals and time.    
  
“But, the meditation--”  
  
Zenyatta cut of Genji’s protest, “Is not the only way for you to seek peace, there is comfort in this natural world and we would be doing ourselves a disservice not to enjoy it.”  
  
Genji hesitated briefly, but knew the monk to be wise beyond himself and finally relented getting to his feet.  Zenyatta took to drifting beside him as they set off on tree-lined spaces, the cyborg finding that the ease at which the shambali monk experienced things radiated enough for him to latch onto.  It gave him purchase as they moved quietly for awhile.  
  
“What do you see, my student?”  
  
He was momentarily unbalanced by the question, frowning behind his mask in confusion, but keeping his gaze ahead he tried to answer the bizarre inquiry.  
  
“Trees, master, there is little foliage besides them.”  
  
“Hmm, what about the trees?” Zenyatta pressed, “What about the knots and the unique patterns of bark? The birds? The sway and vibrant colors of leaves?”  
  
He turned to face his pupil, “Come, Genji, try harder.”  
  
Genji sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists, he wished he understood what Zenyatta found so entrancing about the world.  He focused around him once again, and when he only saw trees, he focused harder still.  
  
Trees, trees with bark and leaves, maybe one was a little different than the other but it was still a tree.  Perhaps a bird sang on the branches but it was still a tree, strong and silent.    
  
Zenyatta had stopped, and at first Genji hadn’t noticed, quickly turning around to see his palm pressed against one of them as he looked up into the dense canopy.  
  
“Look, the way this one spreads light on the ground like the refraction beneath waters surface.  You cannot drown in the forest but it feels as if I am.”  
  
“Strange. You’re rather calm for someone drowning, master.  I cannot see how that would be a welcoming feeling.” Genji quipped, walking to stand just shy of beside him.  
  
Zenyatta chuckled, “Genji, it is good to hear you jest.”  
  
The monk slowly dropped his hand from the bark, the blue lights flickering in a way that seemed to express wonder.  Genji was besides himself at how he was starting to recognize those signs of expression in the other, picking up on the subtleties in his mentor’s actions, and deciphering emotions from them.  
  
“Master...I want to understand, I do want to see what you see but it is...difficult for me.”  
  
Zenyatta turned to look at him, “Of course, you have suffered greatly, I do understand that the world has dulled of it’s wonder for you.  But that does not mean you can never see it again.”  
  
A consoling hand rested on Genji’s shoulder, as the monk brought him to stand beside him, gesturing up towards the canopy.  
  
“What does this remind you of? I see a canopy of trees that refract light like water, serene and foreboding all at once.  But your thoughts are not mine, and your memories unique.  What do you _see_ .”  
  
_What do I see._  
  
Genji’s eyes closed a moment, trying to grasp onto memories.  


\---

  
  
_They often took walks like this, when they were getting along.  The grounds around the shrine were beautiful and serene and the air the freshest you would find when compared to the rest of the heavily developed city surrounding Hanamura._ __  
__  
_Sometimes Genji would bring his flings here, pretty people with a ‘fascination’ of his history who would listen to him tell the legend's his father told him with ostentatious chatter.  He mostly used it to gloat, as he didn’t understand their significance in his youth.  Narcissistic storytelling, used to flaunt and express himself as a cultured young man, though not masking one who was notoriously a playboy._ __  
__  
_But today, he was willing to discard the playboy, in exchange for the brother._ __  
__  
_Today, he walked alongside him, jesting and laughing with him.  One of the rare moments of peace between the two of them, as if there was not a care in the world nor the favor of their father separating them._ __  
__  
_“The breeze is fine today, what do you say to a bit of sparring?”_ __  
__  
_Genji laughed, “Are you sure? My training has been going well, I’m told I am excelling. I don’t know if you can keep up with me, you never were one for close quarters fighting.”_ __  
__  
_“Well now, if you’re going to talk so confidently why don’t you just try me, you little pest.”_ __  
__  
_“Me? I have far too many admirers to be a pest.”_ __  
__  
_That earned him a headlock with his brightly colored hair being ruffled, his protests ignored as he tried to escape._ __  
__  
_“You’re outlandish, you and that awful hair color.  Everyone else may see you as admirable, but as my brother you will always be a pest, Genji~”_ __  
__  
_Genji yanked himself free, running hands through his hair to somewhat cure the tousling that it had been subjected to, flashing a glare._ __  
__  
_“Tch, I think you’re mistaking which brother is the real pest.”_ __  
__  
_His brother’s gaze was turned upwards not immediately responding, and when he did he bypassed another jab for an observation._ __  
__  
_“The blossoms are particularly full this year.”_ __  
__  
_Genji turned his own gaze towards the sky, broken up by the branches of the cherry blossom trees that hung just barely over the pathways they walked.  Sunlight filtered onto his face and he had to shield his gaze from it to see the bright blue through the patches of vibrant pink.  The smell was calming and familiar, one he had spent many years under the protection of, thinking of his father, his brother, his life._ __  
__  
_A sparrow landed on a branch, preening its wings and tittering softly as it observed them from above a moment.  Not perceiving them as an immediate threat, it hopped about seeking lunch before taking off again._ __  
  
_Blue skies, cool breezes on a warm day, the smell of cherry blossoms.  Once, some time ago, he called this home._

 

\---

 

“Lost hopes and dreams--” His words finally broke a long silence where Zenyatta had waited patiently for response.  
  
The green canopy came into view once more, breaking the illusion but not the sensation, blue skies with filtered afternoon sunlight.  He couldn’t tear his gaze away as he now found his memory fading like an old photo, the vibrant splashes of color building a new memory in its wake.    
  
“It feels like I could fly away, just like the sparrow in the tree--” He paused, realizing that Zenyatta would not see what he did.  
  
“The sparrow that was there a long time ago, in the cherry blossom tree, I remember for a moment wishing I could just--go wherever I wanted like it could.  I loved my home and my family, but I felt restricted by the principles of the clan.  So I lived excessively through rebellion, in little ways, to appease my need for expression and freedom…”  
  
The monk watched him in silent fascination, living Genji’s memory through his words.  And reverently keeping silent for now to experience the free-flow of the cyborgs feelings.  
  
“And...now I see trees that I have never seen before, colors that are not the same--and--”  
  
He paused, feeling a lump rise in his throat.  
  
“It isn’t the same, and in this place, I suddenly do not feel so--”  
  
“Caged?” Zenyatta suggested, gently.  
  
“Yes…”  
  
“A memory is a powerful tool.” The monk gazed back up at the sky, “The world is made up of patterns, cycles that remain tried and true but unpredictable.  There is evolution in all things, even in memories that can be recalled by the recognizable qualities in a present moment.”  
  
Genji nodded slowly, “Memories that evolve…”  
  
Walking here with Zenyatta, gazing up at the sky and pondering what wonders lied beneath the blue stretch of atmosphere.  The difference was that, with Zenyatta, he actually felt that he could touch those lengths, see the world for what it was and not under the veil of privilege he had been born into.  
  
He was no longer staring at the sparrow wishing he could become one, or standing beside the overwhelming presence of one who believed in rigid teachings and outdated practices of pride and power.  But an omnic--a person--of freethinking and spirited ideals.  And once again, for a moment, he felt equal to Zenyatta.  
  
Not crushed under the weight of the duty-bound, not gazed on with the disappointment of his sibling.  
  
“It seems you have gained your wings my pupil.”  
  
_‘You have a responsibility to uphold here.’_  
  
“I never wanted to be grounded…” He said, “And I was so certain--so afraid I was going to be chained to the weight of my family’s empire.”  
  
Zenyatta placed a hand on his shoulder again, a sigh of comfort and understanding.  Genji felt the compassion the other had for him, he knew it with a certainty that he was cared for though he did not understand why.

 _'You have no choice…’_  
  
“We are all bound by both duty and dreams, but to be forever untrue to yourself is to allow your own spirit to die.  All choices have consequences and certainly some are worse than others, but would you have made any other if you were presented the option again?”  
  
The omnic spoke as if he had been faced with the choice himself, but Genji couldn’t be certain.  However, his final words struck him, and the cyborg replayed them over and over in his thoughts.  
  
Would he have made any other choice?  Perhaps this form is not what he wanted for himself, but was he betraying himself by feeling regret over his decisions back then?  
  
‘-you are no brother of mine.’  
  
Pain etched into his heart, words carved deep wounds in the core of his soul, and for a moment he questioned his own worth in this world.  If his only family could not care for him then-  
  
“I have only known you a short time, but I am proud to call you my pupil.”  
  
Genji’s gaze immediately tore away from the sky, falling on the monk beside him.  In Zenyatta’s face, his expressionless mask, he could see through to the true intent of his look and it shook him.  This seemed to be a frequent occurrence now, the humanity of the omnic uprooting all he knew and believed for the longest time.  
  
“Thank you, master.”  
  
Zenyatta simply smiled, he did not think Genji had to thank him for anything.  He had made the impression himself, and the monk was growing very fond of him.  
  
“I--would like to continue walking with you, if that is alright?” Genji asked, tentatively.  
  
“Of course, Genji.”  
  
It was dark by the time they returned to their temporary resting spot, Zenyatta had powered himself down for the remainder of the night and Genji was sitting on the grass beside the motionless omnic.    
  
Thinking of it now, he realized this was the only time he felt lonely now, the only time the monk dropped humanity and became a simple machine.  He suddenly considered the time they had spent together and how he hadn’t felt the emptiness of solitude in some time.  How long had Zenyatta been with him? A month now?  
  
It was all blurring together, in days of meditation or training.  Days of sitting silently, listening to him speak in wonder about all of the things around him and then the omnic would pause and ask him what he thought regarding any particular subject.  Genji would answer simply, sometimes falling into amiable discussion with him, but mostly he just wanted to listen.  
  
Listen to the noise that had evolved from a cryptic annoyance to a calm comfort, to a warm reassurance when he would wake from a nightmare, and though he didn’t show any physical distress, the monk just seemed to know.  And would just speak to him while he silently separated himself from the darkness of his subconscious, bringing him back to reality with just the sound of his voice.  
  
He had given up wondering how Zenyatta just knew, and with an unspoken gratitude he relied on it.  
  
And in the silence, all he wanted now was to hear his voice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none."
> 
> \-- William Shakespeare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like weekly Thursday updates are official! Thank you again all for the support and kind words <3
> 
> If you notice mistakes or errors please don't hesitate to inform me! Your criticism is just as welcome as your support, I would like to learn however I can!

“Are you sure about this, Master?”

“I am not confident, however I am assured of the necessity.”

“If anything happens--”

“I know that we are both capable of self-preservation; come Genji, if we spend everyday letting our fears hold us back, we are not living.” 

Genji felt the hesitation weighing on him, the growing stiffness of his legs, frozen to where they were. Rooted by an unseen force that had him desperately trying to find alternatives or arguments to Zenyatta’s decision. They were just shy of city boundaries and even that was too close for comfort. He felt an underlying fear, though not for his own sake; he could handle himself and escape quickly, be in and out before anyone could react. But Zenyatta insisted they do things the proper way, assuring him it would be good for them, it had been some time since either of them were in civilization.

Also, the monk needed oil. If he spent too much longer out there, he would run out, and he might begin to rust. To an omnic, that could bring a plethora of other problems he didn’t want to think about. To Genji too but he was built differently, more artificial muscle and joints, things that didn’t rust as easily or become prone to natural decay. He didn’t want to see his master struggling of course, so he couldn’t simply say no.

Still the dangers that his mind reeled with were far too great. He knew from his life as a human, and then as an Overwatch agent, that omnics weren’t treated with the most respect. They weren’t trusted, and for a lot of people that was justified. But, he was learning and growing himself. He had seen that not only was it irresponsible to assume all omnics were bad or incapable of compassion, but it was heartless to believe that they didn’t experience the world with curiosity and wonder as humans did.

He knew these things, but they wouldn’t. He couldn’t guarantee they’d welcome him with open arms, and the mere thought of someone disrespecting his master instilled within him a burning rage.

“Master.” He began, attempting to prepare himself for the debate this might bring, “Please reconsider, perhaps let me go and purchase what is needed? That way you do not have to trouble yourself-”

Zenyatta laughed gently, the sound warming Genji against his will since he had wanted to remain firm.

“The opinions of others is not what troubles me, my student, though I will always do my best to deter them by being an example.” He countered, “Now come, the sooner we go the sooner we may return to our travels.”

The omnic did not leave room for more argument, continuing toward the town with determination. He knew that the settlements in this area were not anti-omnic even if they weren’t necessarily progressive in accepting them amongst their ranks. For now, he expressed he would chance it and do his best not to cause any offense.

Genji, begrudgingly, followed.

The gazes were immediate, there was no doubt a level of discomfort at the presence of the two strangers, but thus far there was no aggressive response.

The cyborg remained tense, rigid behind his mask. In contrast, the omnic was at ease and calm, though not unaware of the situation at hand. He even stopped to ask for directions, and due to his disarmingly friendly nature the resident only looked briefly nervous before giving him assistance.

As they made their way to their destination, most choosing to simply ignore them and go about their business, Genji wondered if he was being too harsh towards these people. Some even gave them brief smiles and nods of welcome. How the tables had turned, here he was being protectively distressed over the fate of the omnic he had tried to shrug off so intently--what was it now--a month, two months ago? Now, he wouldn’t dream of treating him like he did before. 

A calming pat on his shoulder that was there and then gone again cleared his thoughts and he relaxed. In and out, they would get what they needed and be out of their way, and he was there to keep his Master safe if the need presented itself.

The purchase of oil went surprisingly smoothly, after Zenyatta had made an exchange of currency they went directly to a shop that was fully stocked for omnic needs. By the shopkeeper’s explanation, as the monk was good at striking up conversations, he had built it after simply realizing the need for it. He even mentioned how there were a few omnic residents here that lived fairly comfortably but kept to themselves. He just wanted to make their lives easier.

Genji could see the joyful flicker in the lights on his Master’s face and he smiled besides himself, though glad it was unseen. 

“It is comforting to know that there are others like me that have found comfort in the world, I know the state of things is not easy for either side of the debate. And you are a beacon of light to our darkness, thank you for what you have done.” He expressed, giving an appreciative bow of his head.

Himmat, the shopkeeper who had happily given his name to the monk, bid them farewell on their journey. 

Once they returned to the street, Genji felt his shoulders tense again, now that they were done he wanted to get out. Despite a pleasant experience with the shopkeeper, the weight of the occasional stares and general silence directed at them wasn’t something he thought they should test much longer.

“Strangers are uncommon in these parts, I would not worry yourself over their curiosity my student.” 

Genji glanced sideways at him, the calm in his presence was soothing but not a solution to the distress he was feeling. He saw it then, his sensors alerting him to the stone hurling through the air towards Zenyatta, and in a flash his reflexes kicked in. He drew his small sword, deflecting it into the wall and stepping quickly between his master and the aggressor, position defensive as he met the perpetrator head on.

A young boy, with angry tears in his eyes, knelt on the ground. It appeared he had fallen in his attempt to throw the stone with as much velocity as his thin arm could muster. He was no more than twelve, if Genji were to guess. In spite of his youth, the innocence wavered in his eyes, muddled by pain and anguish. 

He steeled himself, at a crossroads now as people watched, stopping to witness what had and would transpire. The cyborg was angry that anyone would try to strike the peaceful monk, whom he knew was a good and kind being, undeserving of such treatment. But--it was just a boy, and certainly he would only bring more trouble if he were to let the emotions consume him. He didn’t know him like he did, how could he punish him for the prejudice he had likely been instilled with?

As his thoughts debated with one another, fighting for what was the right course of action, Zenyatta put a hand on his shoulder to move beside him.

“Oh, you’ve been hurt!” He observed, and Genji’s eyes trailed down to see the boy had skinned his knee.

The monk’s hand left his shoulder, and he felt the emptiness of the steady comfort it brought, nerves spiking high as his companion moved towards the boy. His chest was tight and throat closing in distress, as the distance increased between himself and the one he wanted to protect. 

The boy, in turn, gazed up at the monk in both fear and anger. A fear that Genji recognized in himself now, he was afraid of someone hurting the omnic just as the child was afraid of the omnic hurting him.

Zenyatta lowered himself to sit on the ground in front of the boy.

“What is your name?” He asked, ever gentle and benevolent regardless of how he was treated. 

The boy tensed, sitting back to lean away from him. 

“I can’t tell you, you’re a stranger and a monster.” He choked, on the brink of emotional meltdown.

“Ah, well I’m afraid I am not quite intimidating enough to be a monster, despite my appearance.” He said, and Genji knew he was smiling even though there was a sadness to it, “My name is Zenyatta, your hurt and if you’d let me, I would like to help you.”

The boy was taken aback, sniffing and wiping his eyes, “Help me? You don’t help people, you just hurt them and take them away, like maan--omnic’s are horrible, raakshas.”

Genji flinched, his mind reeling as he was thrown into the world that little boy had lived in. He couldn’t imagine for a moment his mentor could be compared to a monster, a murderer, but this child had lost his mother to an omnic. And he felt his heart sink; this young boy had every reason to distrust omnics, but if only he knew Zenyatta like he did.

Zenyatta, was calm in spite of this, though he gave off an aura of sorrow.

“I am sorry, you lost your loved one to others like me, I cannot understand what it must feel like to lose a parent. I did not have a mother myself.” His voice was gentle and soothing as he lamented for the boy, “I lost many of my people to the wars and discourse between my kind and yours, it is a tragedy that no one should have endured.”

The concept of an omnic feeling the pain of loss hadn’t dawned on the boy, who hesitated, brows furrowing as he glanced to the side before looking back into the monk’s steady gaze.

“She was...going to visit her sister, she didn’t even hate them.” Eyes welled up with tears as the boy grit his teeth, recalling the things he had felt when he heard the news of his mother.

“There are no words of solace I can offer to make up for her loss, little one, but perhaps--if you can trust me long enough to heal your wound I can make sure her beloved child is not left to suffer in her absence.”

He shifted nervously, but the sting of his knee was something that, in his fragile state, seemed nearly unbearable. Sucking up pride, he nodded sharply and shifted so his knee was visible.

“D-don’t think of doing anything wrong, everyone is watching you.” He warned.

Zenyatta smiled in his own way, and Genji could feel that maybe even the boy felt the softness in his gaze.

He summoned something between his hands, the orbs that hovered around his neck glowing softly as the gold light built and he gently held it in position over the boy’s knee. A beam latched on and began the work of healing immediately, soothing the ache and burn.

“I come from a monastery in Nepal. We wish to build peace and harmony between humans and omnics.” The monk spoke, words giving the boy something to focus on, “We want to heal the wounds that the war caused and bring people together, though my methods are more hands on than theirs.” 

Genji watched him, enthralled by his patience and tenderness, and felt the humility in him wash away the mistrust he had in those around them. Zenyatta’s ways were through patience and kindness, he taught with warm words and managed to filter his stark truths with hope. He still had so much to learn from him, so many ways to better himself and grow.

And seeing the reflection of gold light in the boy’s eyes as he gazed at the omnic, it was incredible to watch his expression, turning from fear to wonder and curiosity.

“I’m Samar.” 

The boys voice broke Genji from his thoughts.

“Samar, that is a good name.” Zenyatta lifted the orb in his hands, bringing it over Samar’s shoulder, “Almost finished, give me just one moment.”

The stream of light latched onto the boy again, and for a moment he looked perplexed. And Genji watched with equal confusion as Samar’s face melted into one of shock and wonder, eyes brimming with tears that spilled over without control.

“You will find peace, Samar, share this with your remaining family so you can move forward.”

The light of the orb faded as it unattached and returned to the monk, disappearing completely. Samar jumped to his feet, wiping tears away and nodding quickly before he dashed away.

Genji watched his master rise again, watching the boy run away before facing his student again.

“Thank you for waiting, Genji.” He said, the dots on his head lit with a tranquil glow.

“Master, I am sorry for doubting you.” The cyborg felt ashamed that he believed the only way to approach abrasive action was through accusations and scolding.

“There is a time to fight and a time to love, my student.” Zenyatta said, placing that ever anchoring hand on his shoulder.

Genji resisted the urge to reach up and hold to that hand, cling to the lifeline that stood before him. 

“It seems I haven’t made that distinction yet…” He sighed softly, “Master, I do not know if I will find the patience with others as you have, I was ready to engage the person who had dared attempt to hurt you--until I saw it was just a boy.”

“Mm, yet you were clear of mind enough to act defensive before you did so.” The monk reminded him, “You are finding patience, if only you would be patient with yourself.”

The smile again, directed at him in both amusement and something else that made his chest seize.

“Though, as unnecessary as it was over such a small stone, I do appreciate your desire to defend me and my honor, I am sorry I did not thank you sooner.” He gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before sliding his hand away, lacing his fingers together in front of him

Genji swallowed, nodding resolutely, “You are welcome, but you don’t have to thank me, I would do so again without hesitation.”

Zenyatta laughed, and he savored the sound.

“Come, we should make way before I impart anymore unnecessary wisdom on these poor, undeserving souls.” The monk chimed as he moved past him, to continue down the street.

Genji gasped behind his mask, spinning around to declare, “Master! That was uncalled for!”

Whenever the omnic teased him, and joked around as he did expressing very human concepts of humor and joy, Genji was unable to distinguish between empty metal and soul infused being. He knew for certain that his Master possessed one, and he was honored to be able to experience its powerful presence. 

To his unexpressed joy, Zenyatta laughed again. 

\---

Genji relaxed once they were alone again, able to relish in the comfort his Master’s presence gave, and maybe hoard it to himself a little.

“Where to now, Master? We seem to have been traveling with more diligence lately.”

Zenyatta paused, giving his student a mild apologetic look, “I am embarrassed, I did not realize I had been keeping it from you in my focus.”

He smoothed some fabric on his lap, fingers interlocking, “We’re en route to Nepal, where we will have to face the rather intensive pilgrimage through the Himalayas.”

Genji was perplexed briefly, processing what he said, “You mean--Master, your home?”

The monk chuckled a little, “I suppose part of me had meant it as a surprise, I have not been back in so long and while I do not always align with the dogma, I do know it is a place of healing and learning.”

Zenyatta’s thumbs circled each other, an action that Genji equated with nervousness or uncertainty in humans. He had never seen the wise omnic nervous.

“Perhaps I should have brought it up sooner, I thought that you might find comfort there but if you do not want to--”

Genji reached out in spite of himself, hands on the others shoulders a bit more excitement than he initially intended.

“I would be honored!” He said, loosening his hold on him when he realized he had surprised Zenyatta, averting his gaze, “But am I worthy of such a place?”

He could feel the monk’s stare boring a hole through his mask and skull, and he felt his face burn in shame. From his point of view, he watched his fingers unlace and a hand reach out to his shoulder in turn.

“Genji, we open our arms to all that make the journey, that said--if there is one in this world who deserves it and could benefit from it, I believe it would be you.” 

Zenyatta’s approval warmed him, and he slowly returned the gaze pulling hands away and cupping the back of his own neck, fingers tapping against it in embarrassment for his display of emotion and the contact he had placed on the other.

“Thank you, Master.” He sighed, “I will do my best to be all that you see in me.”

The monk folded his hands again, the link between them severed leaving a phantom weight on the cyborg’s shoulder when he was absent. Again, his thoughts drifted into pining for that comfortable stability he felt when it was there, but he kept them silent.

“Be the best that you seek ini yourself, you do not have to be molded by my opinion.”

“Right--” Genji said, using the words he had heard often, “I’m lead by guidance to find myself.”

Zenyatta nodded, “You are correct.”

The cyborg and the omnic fell into comfortable silence again as they continued moving, heading towards where the border of Nepal lied, and soon after they would begin the climb into the mountains. Genji pondered the sights he would see, the new things he would learn, the look into the life of his guide. He chanced a look over at him, the prospect of learning more about him bringing an excited thrill to him.

And he realized how little he knew about Zenyatta beyond his character, even about his capabilities and--

“Master? May I pry a little?” He began.

“Of course, what is it?”

Genji’s eyes fell on the orbs that encircled the monk’s neck, turning in air and floating on nothing, but otherwise dormant and lacking the glow from before.

“What was that you did to the boy? That light.” He felt it was familiar to that light he saw when he was brought back to life, but different in it’s own way.

“I brought harmony to him, that light is a form of omnic energy promoting harmony and healing. I used it to heal his wound and ease his troubled mind.” The monk explained.

Genji was both surprised and found himself feeling a little jealous. He had no idea that the omnic was capable of such a thing, and yet he had not experienced it himself. He let out a sigh though it came out as more of a huff than he meant it.

Zenyatta turned his gaze to him, slowing to a stop, and he tittered softly.

“That was quite a morose sound, please my student, always speak your mind to me.”

His face flared, and the cyborg felt immediately ashamed for his attitude, even if he had expressed it with restraint. He could tell Zenyatta had seen straight through him.

“Forgive me, master...I suppose I am just surprised, you have been at my side for some time and yet I did not even have knowledge of this--omnic energy.”

“You’re forgiven~.” The monk mused, “I did not mean to keep it from you, I have just been trying to guide your healing by your own strength. It is different than what I did for the boy, it will be just enough to give him clarity of mind and hopefully find comfort in his loss. He is not my student though and he has a family for support, your solution must be long term.”

Genji felt his body slump, but regained his composure, “I understand, Master.”

The monk tilted his head, gazing at him thoughtfully.

“Shall we continue?” He questioned.

Reluctantly, Genji agreed, and they were on their way.

Things had been cloaked in a heavy silence, neither speaking, not knowing what to say to the other. The cyborg found himself stubbornly ruffled over the situation, though he tried to fight against it. He didn’t know why he questioned his significance to the omnic, of course the other found him important enough to share these things with. His decision not to was nothing to do with him possibly not caring at all.

As he sat himself down beside Zenyatta to rest at nightfall, his thoughts out of control, he tried to fight the discomfort rising in his gut. 

And he questioned, was it that he thought his mentor didn’t care at all? Or--that he didn’t care as he hoped he would?

Just as his mind slipped into dismay, self-depreciating thoughts and feelings clouding his judgement, he felt a warmth starting at his shoulder and coursing its way to his heart and head. Visor lighting up as he opened his eyes, he immediately noticed the warm golden glow in his peripheral, hovering over his shoulder.

Breathing in sharply, he turned to look at the other and found him seated in meditation, powered low and completely silent. The soft thrum of light pulsing through the orbs that slowly circled around his neck. 

A lump climbed into his throat and he bit a scarred lip. Why did he continue to question the other? Whether it was his motives, his state of being, or his unconditional love; he had no right to debate what he already knew. 

Deciding not to break the omnic’s concentration, Genji embraced the light that began to grow in his soul and quietly wept. 

Tonight, he did not feel so lonely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” 
> 
> ― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ever so grateful for those who have remained patient with me! Too much happened in between this chapter and the last, I became very ill, our laptop is practically broken, I got a new job. And life has just been exceptionally busy (now we have a puppy to add to the picture!)
> 
> None the less, Chapter 5 is live and I will continue this story without fail ♥ Thank you for all of the support and patience!!

Monsoon season.   
  
The storm that off and on raged inside Genji, despite the progress he had made, matched the turmoil in the weather patterns.  Some days calm and tranquil, filled with hopeful energy and a solid goal in sight.  Other days, bitter winds cut through his soul and he felt the sting of rain uncovering the dust on lost memories.    
  
It poured.   
  
They strayed from the open paths, although canopy’s from thick trunked trees and heavy branches were nearly non-existent the further they climbed the rise of the Himalayas, peppered by the more resilient firs and cedars that didn’t offer shelter.   
  
Genji was glad for the oil Zenyatta had the foresight to procure.   
  
Thick sheets of water streaked his visor if he lifted his head more than a few inches, so he walked with his head bowed and arms folded in front of him.     
  
Silence, save for the contrast of rain on metal and the slosh of thick water whenever his foot would sink into a puddle.   
  
As he walked, heavy and solemn, he thought of his father’s walk.   
  
“Dare I ask what is on your mind that has gravity pressing so fervently on you, my student?”   
  
Genji’s head snapped up, startled by the sudden sound of dialogue.  The rain was a gentle patter, and the underbelly of clouds was a soft shade of gray blue.  He wasn’t sure when the intensity had let up and wondered if he had been imagining it for a moment.  But the ground was thick with mud that only a downpour would have caused--he must have lost himself in a trance.   
  
Taking note of the inquisitive energy beside him, he lowered his head again in apology.   
  
“I am sorry Master, were you speaking to me? I was not listening-”   
  
The sense of his invisible smile brought a bit of warmth to the cool surroundings.   
  
“Not at all, the rain had much to say and would have drowned any conversation.” He responded, in his very poetic way, “I noticed your steps were heavier and stance seemed weighted by the woes of the universe, I figured I would ask.”    
  
Always in tune, watching, and observing.  Genji wondered how Zenyatta was able to exist in such a world where his mind was constantly empathizing with all around him.   
  
“Ah--that.” Genji shrugged his shoulders a bit, dropping his arms and trying to shake away the stance that was not his own, “It is nothing really.”   
  
“Mm, you think it is nothing worth my concern?”   
  
“I--” The cyborg stopped, head turning away with a heavy sigh.   
  
How he could be so brutal and blunt in his curiosity, and simultaneously open conversation with a warm offering--he would never know.   
  
“Do not feel you waste my time with your thoughts Genji, unspoken words can rest heavy on a weary mind.”   
  
Genji rubbed the back of his neck, a sensation that his sensors picked up on but was more out of habit than of a physical need.  There was a distinct realization that despite all of their time together, Zenyatta--didn’t really know anything about him.  Nor did he know anything about his Master.  Despite spending over a month alongside the omnic, and growing comfortable in his presence, it dawned on him now that they were virtual strangers.   
  
Then again, what did strangers entail?   
  
Because he also felt that the monk was his companion of sorts, a friend.   
  
“I was thinking of my father.” He said, voice soft and uncertain.   
  
He felt the others gaze on him.    
  
“I’m not sure why, I suppose the storm reminded me of him.”   
  
He waited, certain the monk had a prophetic shred of wisdom to  _ enlighten _ him on how a storm was a reminder of inner turmoil, that he struggled under his father’s legacy, some philosophical prattle of the sort.  When it didn’t come, he peaked sideways at him to see his gaze downcast in thought.   
  
Zenyatta looked up and Genji quickly averted his eyes, even if they could not be seen, and was surprised to hear the warm sympathy in his voice.   
  
“I regret to say I am unable to understand what loss of such an important figure in your life feels like, but I do not envy your pain, I am sorry.”   
  
Genji felt a painful throb in his chest, and he swallowed hard, folding his arms again quickly as if to hold back everything that ached inside of him.   
  
No one had ever shared remorse for his loss--not even then.     
  
\---   
  
_ The fading light of one of the most beautiful sunsets of the year mocked him.  His pain and confusion swelled as the world ignored the downpour of sorrow. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ A storm raging inside him. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ He never cared for his father’s legacy, and he wouldn’t say he even admired his father as some sons did.  But his father had never really wronged him, he had allowed him to live his carefree life, to consort with whomever he chose, to entertain as he pleased.  He loved him and Genji loved him in return even if their differences never made them close at heart. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ And now he was gone. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ The solemn procession was small, himself, his brother and a few chosen and trusted that his father may have called friends. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ If they weren’t partners of a criminal empire. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ The aching came to life when the news had come, but seeing the stony face of his brother as he turned to him seeking comfort with tear-glistened eyes had steeled it away and it shuddered to a stop.  Nobody was going to be there for him as he grieved.  He recalled they sat side-by-side, Hanzo’s arm around his shoulder, when his mother died.  Those times were long gone. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ He had swallowed all tears, and followed suit.   _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Silent as the grave. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Incense burned out, the small gathering trickled away, and he was alone.  Staring at the arrangement, with no photo, in honor of his last parental figure. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ And he felt nothing. _   
  
\---

“I am sorry--master I--”   
  
Zenyatta shook his head, the sturdy hand on his shoulder grounding him again as he became aware of the earth under his hands and knees.  His eyes burned with tears, held onto for years and years that he had forgotten.   
  
“There are no apologies for grief, my student, please take your time.” Zenyatta’s voice was soothing and patient.   
  
Genji lifted his hand, streaked with mud, but he didn’t care as he cupped his masked face in it.  A human sentiment, though he could not feel the comfort of it’s warmth and darkness over his eyes.  It helped somewhat.   
  
He was surprised when he eased the quiet sobs to see that Zenyatta knelt in the mud next to him, with no concern to the mess that would cake on his clothing or metal.  He wondered a moment how much water the omnic was able to tolerate--would it harm him.  And he trembled inwardly with the feelings of inadequacy under the steadiness of his presence.   
  
“You do not have to lower yourself for me, Master--I’m not--”   
  
_ Thwick _

He looked up in shock, processing what had just happened.  After a moment, he reached up and touched the side of his helmet where the monk had flicked him.  Speechless.   
  
“Do not speak as if we are anything but equal, you are no less than I no matter what griefs and torments you have suffered.”   
  
Stern and surprisingly forceful, a tone he had never heard from the monk.     
  
But he felt the strong empathy that he knew the monk was capable of, human or not, and he bit his lip.    
  
He had no strength in him to resist, hands holding to the omnic’s arms who grasped his back sturdy, balancing, and somehow warm.  The cyborg let his head fall against his chest and he let all of the forgotten sorrows flow.   
  
It was strange--how the drops of rain on Zenyatta’s face formed rivers down from his optic slats.  He knew it was wishful of him to believe so, but it felt to Genji as if the monk cried with him.  And the longing for support and comfort he’d wished for then was fulfilled.

  
  
\---

The sun was peeling the clouds apart when they finally separated, Zenyatta gently urged Genji to stand with him.  He remained there, while Genji took another moment or so, to stabilize him.  The cyborg could not look his master in the eye, partially from embarrassment of his breakdown, but he was also suddenly aware that Zenyatta was ever so slightly taller than him when standing.   
  
He breathed finally when the physical link was separated and the monk returned to his floating state using omnic energies.   
  
“I--did not realize you could stand.” Genji said, dreadfully aware of how sheepishly the words left him.   
  
His chuckle brought a smile to his aching, tear stained, face.   
  
“I am an omnic, likely they would have thought it a waste of material to give me legs I could not use.  Perhaps, in the end, they should not have given me what I rarely utilize~” He mused.   
  
Genji shook his head, “Well, humans waste their usefulness all of the time, so I guess that makes you a little more like everyone else.”   
  
“I cannot argue with you there.”   
  
The Shimada laughed, taking in a deep breath and exhaling the remnants of his stress.  He felt a bit guilty for his earlier resentment directed at Zenyatta, even though the monk had not known of it.  He managed to bring him comfort and peace yet again, and continued to surprise him.    
  
“We can continue our journey now.”   
  
“Of course.”    
  
“And--thank you.” Genji added quickly, before he got to nervous.   
  
“Of course- but Genji, you have nothing to thank me for.  I have never thought you less than the striking phenomenon you are; but you are fraught with immense sorrows and pains, it is only right you be allowed to release those and become what you are meant to be.”   
  
The burning sensation on his face was potent, and he did not know what to think of it.   
  
“What--I am meant to be?” He rubbed his shoulder, feeling silly, “What am I meant to be?”   
  
“That, is up to you.”    
  
A soft huff left him, “Sometimes, Master, you are direct and clear--why do you torment me with cryptic words?”   
  
“Do you think me cryptic?” Zenyatta hummed, thoughtfully, “How do those ‘cryptic words’ make you feel?”   
  
“Don’t patronize me.” Genji tutted, but smiled behind his mask at the jest.   
  
Zenyatta enjoyed joking, the cyborg had found, though his humor was often dry and rather sarcastic.  He was strangely expert in delivering it fondly in spite of that, and he liked that quality about the monk.   
  
“I guess they make me want the answers, the things you always seem to know but refuse to share.”   
  
“I do not know everything, Genji.”   
  
“You seem to.”   
  
Zenyatta patted his shoulder gently, and Genji stiffened--hyper aware of the warmth from the seemingly cold, metal appendage.    
  
“Think of it as~ bait.  For you to answer the questions that only you can, there are many paths ahead of you, but I cannot choose them for you.  For so many outcomes, a cryptic answer to encompass them all is necessary.”   
  
The monk was teasing him again, but there was truth in his words.   
  
“I guess I understand.”   
  
“You don’t have to, not yet, but you will.” Zenyatta folded his hands in his lap again, “Now, let us move on.”   
  
Genji was rooted to the spot for a moment, watching the other’s back moving away before the magnetic draw pulled at his feet to follow behind him.  He observed him in silence, the soft streaking sunlight highlighting the rain speckled metal of an inhuman form.  Sharp lines, smooth curves, and bone-like in structure at times; but wrapped in wire and rubbers that protected parts of him from harsh environments.    
  
Not human, but not robot.   
  
Not entirely unusual or unique for the generic shape of omnics, but Genji knew it well.   
  
When he wasn’t wallowing in miseries of his past, he often studied that back, or his face from the side of his visor.  The subtleties of scratches and imperfect colorations, the way his lights would flicker when he felt any excess of emotion.   
  
He felt a tug in his chest, almost stumbling forward if it wasn’t for his balance recalibrating himself so he could fall into step beside him.   
  
“How have you fared in this weather, Master? Does it harm you?” He said, trying to make casual conversation, anything to clear his thoughts.   
  
“I am fortunate I was built to withstand it well enough, but it is good that I will be able to have all necessary tune-ups done when we arrive in Nepal.”    
  
Genji felt relief at his words, “That is good, I was concerned that it would affect you adversely since I know we still have some distance to travel.”   
  
Zenyatta looked to him curiously, a short pause between their words, “Your concern is appreciated my student, unnecessary but appreciated.”   
  
He flinched when feeling that curious, probing gaze--full of knowing, as if he could read into his heart and soul.  He could not be sure if that were true but he felt the need to, metaphorically, cloak himself; embarrassed as Zenyatta’s words easily exposed him.   
  
“I cannot help but have concern for the one who has shown me kindness, we have traveled together for quite some time now--”   
  
“Two months and four days.” The monk chimed in, nonchalantly.   
  
And he couldn’t help but be flattered that he had counted.   
  
“Y-yes.”   
  
“I understand your concerns, it would be normal for anyone who had been alongside someone exclusively for so long to wish for their wellness.” Zenyatta’s words were subliminally self directed, and it made Genji’s thoughts wander further than he felt he ought to.   
  
“So, then you feel the same concerns.”   
  
The monk smiled knowingly, Genji could sense it and he let out a rather undignified grunt.   
  
“You’re cruel in your own ways, I hope you know.”   
  
“I do--”   
  
There was an electrifying sensation in the air, it buzzed about and tapped his sensors with small, nipping shocks.  Genji thought he saw sparks sizzle out in the remnants of raindrops falling from branches but he couldn’t be sure.     
  
He felt a chill and shook it off.    
  
“That was strange, I did not hear any thunder?” He pondered, looking at the slivers of blue sky showing through clouds.   
  
Though it was not that unusual due to the storm, there were no sounds of life. The trees didn’t tremble for long moments and no birds sang.  Yet, Genji still found it odd and his body tensed, the remaining skin beneath his armor budding at the pores.   
  
“Master--?”   
  
There was a subtle whirring of mechanics, and the sound of shorting circuits.   
  
The sight of Zenyatta, still suspended by the remaining omnic energies expelling from him, head tilted back as if he was gazing at the sky.  Though his hands were raised slightly in the short moment of alarm he had been allowed, fingers twitching, matching the buzzing sound of the shock claw gripping squarely to the front of his face.  Quiet, strangely calm and unsettlingly stark against the surroundings.   
  
Genji had only heard of the concept, or seen it in films, that slow motion action taken in the recognition of horror.  The mind processed everything with agonizing leisure, unwillingly, even as his legs took him forward and his arms reached out to catch the falling form of his mentor.   
  
His sensors were haywire, beeping in his ears as his heart stopped and started, erratic.  Heat built up beneath the metal armor as the fear and disbelief grew immeasurable.    
  
Blink.   
  
Blink again.   
  
Blink again and it would be over, and he would wake up from his nightmares with the warmth of harmony flowing through him.    
  
_ Blink! _   
  
His arms slumped beneath the sudden weight of the omnic, lying limp in them, brain and body unable to communicate and adjust for the heavy burden he held.  Even as he gained his strength, and lifted Zenyatta’s head from the ground while it hung loosely over his arm, he couldn’t believe it.   
  
It didn’t look real.   
  
The sound of static filled his head.   
  
His sensors screamed at him again, and the arm supporting the monk’s legs dropped to grasp his weapon.  In a flash it was behind him, blocking an attacking projectile.  Genji lifted his head as he understood what had just transpired, and he saw red.   
  
That’s right, this sort of thing wasn’t some sort of accident.   
  
Of course someone would have done this to Zenyatta.  Undeserving and perfect as he was, some monster did this to him, and they would not be allowed to get away with it.   
  
It was with some unwillingness that he lowered the other to the ground, rising to his feet.  His mind and body kicked into action, sensors flaring to life with absolute precision.  Hyper aware of his surroundings, and incapable of failure.     
  
Overwatch had built him for just this.    
  
As he faced his attackers, cowards hidden in tree cover, he remembered Zenyatta had briefly spoken of omnic hunters.  He recognized and located them without difficulty, drawing his katana as the built up heat released from his body, steam hissing out of vents. They fired, seen now there was no reason for them to hide away, it would only be wise to try and disable the oncoming challenge.     
  
One, two, three.  He counted as he did when he practiced, sparring in the forests, and he knocked each attack away with little difficulty.   
  
The light in his visor glowed furiously, and once he was in range, he brandished his precious  Ryu-ichimonji.   
  
He spoke, his native tongue pouring like venom from his lips, and the hunters would be faced with something out of hell.   
  
Red.   
  
All he could see was red.   
  


\---

 

A soft dripping sound on the ground near him was deafening, visor lighting up as the present came into focus around him.  All around him was quiet and peaceful, and the birds seemed to have engaged in song again.  At first, he couldn’t remember what had transpired or where he even was, he had been speaking to Zenyatta when--   
  
_ Master _ !   
  
Genji spun around to seek his companion when he saw what laid in his wake.  Bodies, at least six of them, sprawled on the ground limp and lifeless.  He felt his fist clenched firmly around the hilt of the blade and realized it was the sound of blood puddling below it that had brought him to his senses.   
  
He nearly dropped it as he stumbled back, looking at the massacre before him.    
  
Had he?    
  
“Master-” He said, firmly bringing him back to why he was here and he ran to him, stumbling to his knees again. He removed the disabler from his head, and held his face in his hands, examining him.  His pulse frantic.     
  
How? He was no mechanic, no knowledge of machines like this, how would he know? How could he tell?    
  
Refusing to give up, his hands moved from his head, feeling down the stiff metal and wires of his neck, over his chest where he stopped a moment.  There was something, a vibration, perhaps there was time?  The machinery in him wasn’t silent and that meant that he wasn’t yet...   
  
Genji quickly scooped him up, recalibrating for the dead weight of metal and machine.     
  
He had to get to Nepal, and on his own, if he wanted Zenyatta with him again.   
  
The universe would not leave him to mourn in solitude again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Things do not change; we change.” 
> 
> ― Henry David Thoreau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter took a little longer due to finding time for my test reader to check it over <3 Thank you for your patience

“Please!”   
  
Being surrounded by a slew of startled omnic’s would normally have Genji rife with tension, but there was a more pressing matter of fear that consumed his very being.  He had stumbled in like a lost soul, carrying the weight of his mentor, the only focus he had left.   
  
Genji had ran for days, he didn’t recall if he once stopped though at times his feet would drag in the dirt.  The higher he rose in the mountains, the slower he dragged as the temperature dropped rapidly.   
  
Calculations, recalibrations of body heat regulation, and he would run again.   
  
He fell to his knees as the weight of those days suddenly fell on him, suddenly aware of the parts of him that were still human.  Tired, worn out, his supported heart beat hard and slow now as it tried to find calm.   
  
“ _Please_!” He practically wailed.   
  
His vision was tunneling as he looked down at the lifeless face of his master.  Wishing to see the lights just flicker, slightly--just enough to give him a sign.   
  
Dazed as he was, he briefly forgot where he was as robotic hands reached out to take the form from him.  His visor flashed and he tried to defend the precious life in his arms.  He couldn’t let someone else hurt him, he’d already failed before--yet his lack of strength left him without aid.    
  
Weak and helpless.   
  
Zenyatta was taken from him and the world went dark as he sobbed.   
  
He was only vaguely aware as he was also helped to his feet, arms slung around the shoulders of two omnic monks who walked him away as he struggled to keep up.  They offered most of the support though, easily guiding him while trying to offer words of ease.   
  
“Calm yourself, stranger, let us help you.”   
  
He choked, “Him--not me.”    
  
“He will be helped by others, here come and rest yourself, you are weary.”   
  
He let himself be lead and brought inside, heavy rugs and pillows scattered about gave warmth in the unforgiving landscape.  But the peace and comfort of the place did not bring him solace when he did not know the fate of his master.   
  
“Will he be okay, please tell me he will be okay--”   
  
“We do not know the extent of what has happened.” An omnic spoke helping him to sit down against the wall, “But when we have information we will let you know, please rest here.  There is nothing more you can do for now.”   
  
He knew the omnic was right, he was useless now and there was absolutely nothing he could do to help Zenyatta.   
  
“I want to see him.”    
  
“You will, but right now we need to let those who are qualified take care of him, you did well to bring him here.”   
  
Genji wanted to argue, to insist and to beg.     
  
But a hand on his shoulder stilled him, “We open our homes to all who seek shelter or comfort here, even moreso, Zenyatta is one of our own.  A brother to us.  You can rest assured we will do everything in our abilities to ensure his well being.”   
  
The cyborg stiffened, gaze averting even further from eye contact.  He nodded in answer with no words left for response.   
  
“Rest now, I will see to it you are kept updated with all that occurs.”  The omnic stood, leaving him his own devices.   
  
Genji leaned into the wall, head falling back with a soft thud as he stared up at the ceiling.  Mind wandering, spinning out of control as he fell into an unstoppable whirlpool of self-blame.  It was his fault--had his thoughts been alert and focused, if he did not let his mind wander as it had...the curiosity and pondering had distracted him from what was important.   
  
And if Zenyatta didn’t make it, he would never have the answers to--   
  
He covered his face with both hands, there was no time to think like that.  Tears burned his eyes again and he resented their presence while he waited.   
  
\--- _   
_   
Genji opened his eyes, flinching a bit as they stung with dryness.  His spirit felt heavy but the weight of the emotions he had withheld being shed until he fell into slumber at least calmed him some, having been washed away.  Rationalizing that hope was not lost and he would certainly speak with his Master again.   
  
He had long since forgotten the therapeutic properties of a good cry.   
  
Deciding it would do him no good to sit here and mope while he waited for word, Genji stood and ventured outside.    
  
His sensors read the coolness of the air, and he could feel a crisp bite through the vents on his armor.  It was logically so, being up high in the Himalayas, but he was still surprised by the colder state of things.  He seemed to be in the midst of the village, quiet and serene--he’d have almost thought it empty were it not for the faint sounds of movement his sensors could pick up.   
  
He hadn’t realized how early in the morning they must have arrived.   
  
Wandering about, staying near walls and venturing in solitude, he explored the home of the Shambali. It rested in the peaks on a cliff’s edge, nestled against the rock face and while exposed to the air it would be well hidden from below in the mists and fog.   He walked to the edge of the village, gazing down at the sight below.   
  
There appeared to be a lower town, residential mostly and he assumed this is where he had arrived earlier.  And then, the tier he was currently on was upper town, perhaps more pertinent things were here but he hadn’t explored deeply enough to know.  He had noticed a library of sorts, perhaps a shrine in the central area.  He hadn’t tread to closely but he saw the flowers scattered at the base of a monument.   
  
Turning his attention upward, there was quite a different sight, the rise of a sturdy wall shielded something he could only assume was important.     
  
If he were to fathom a guess, it would be their temple.   
  
Despite the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, the cold air and the solitude he was left in, he felt strangely at ease in this new environment.  The ‘unforgivability’ he had attributed to the landscape seemed less now, this place warm and welcoming.    
  
Perhaps it was the natural peace the omnics here projected.    
  
Still, there was something missing when Zenyatta was not there.  He had been looking forward to bringing Genji here, and the cyborg felt that it was a betrayal of sorts to peruse too much without his guidance.     
  
“You are the stranger that brought Zenyatta to us?”   
  
He nearly jumped, having been distracted briefly in his thought process he had not heard the others arrival.  Turning, he quickly bowed in apology to another unfamiliar omnic who stood before him.   
  
“Yes that is me.”   
  
An omnic stood there, dressed in similar garb to Zenyatta though it was less tattered and covered his torso.  He bowed in return, straightening up to look Genji in the eye.  Or, at least he figured that was it.   
  
“I was told to inform you that we have stabilized him and he has woken, he will still require some recharge time so--”   
  
“Where is he? Can I see him?”  Genji spat it out quickly, stepping forward in clear resolution.   
  
“Of course you may see him, but I must warn you--” The monk raised his hands to stop him, though did not reach out to touch him in doing so.   
  
He remembered when Zenyatta remained at an unphysical boundary with him just like this, that had long since changed and he was deeply starved of his attention.  The days of travel here carrying his lifeless body and waiting for resolution continued to build as they became less muddied, clearing into distinct branches of time.     
  
Treacherous climbs up rocky cliff slopes, handling his master with such delicate care while pushing all of his energies into lengthening his stride and providing strength to his legs.   
  
Sometimes he would stop, hold the body as tightly as he could and just beg him to wake up.  To give him a sign, a signal that he was conscious of the struggle he faced.  One he was no longer used to facing and brooding in alone.   
  
“--there were some reset protocols taken and he may have missing memory banks so do not be surprised if he is confused or disoriented.  It is a delicate process after all, you arrived just in time.”   
  
Genji’s attention snapped to, and he felt his heart sink, “...his memory?”   
  
“He seems to know where he is but not how he arrived, I do not know what else he may have lost but we are indebted to your selfless act.  I cannot say for certain--” The omnic paused, machinery inside of it clicking and whirring as he gazed at Genji inquisitively, when he spoke again it seemed he had realized something, “Ah--I am sorry...I will take you to him.”   
  
He turned, walking away, expecting Genji to follow.   
  
The cyborg felt rooted to the spot, but the pull that called him to his Master’s side bid him to follow anyway.   
  
Zenyatta didn’t know how he had gotten there, did that mean he hadn’t mentioned Genji at all? That he had--forgotten.   
  
When they arrived, his throat had all but closed as he fought back waves of confusion and emotions, mouth dry when the Omnic gestured into the room where he would find his recovering companion.   
  
Steeling himself, blinking back emotions, he stepped into the room and was left in privacy to meet with his master.   
  
\----   
  
_ “Genji, my dear, what happened?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ A tearful little boy held small hands out, inside his palms he bore a small bird that laid on it’s side.  If it weren’t for the quick rise and fall of it’s feathery chest, it may have seemed dead. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Mama, it had just learned to fly--the bigger birds they--I tried to help it.  Please fix it?  It’s wing is hurt.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The woman knelt down in front of her son, offering her lithe hands to him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “May I?” She said, a warm and reassuring smile on her face. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Further examination proved her son was right, the little bird had a small but disabling wound on it’s delicate wing.  Red had oozed between the wispy little feathers, pinpointing the damage location.  Hurt, but not an impossible problem. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Shh, sh sh, don’t cry my dear, we can fix it.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Shining gray eyes met the soft, dark ones of his beloved mother.  And he nodded, trusting her above all else. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ She was right, it was a simple fix and before long the creature was patched up. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Now, Genji, he will need you to look after him until he can fly on his own again.  Do you think you can do that?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ She placed it gently in his palms, where it nestled comfortably, twittering in content. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Yes, yes I can mama.  Will I get to see it fly again?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Yes my dearest, my little sparrow, he will fly away once more.” She crooned, kissing him on his dark locks, “And one day I hope you will follow him on your own wings.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ \---   
  
Genji stood just inside the doorway, the curtain falling closed behind him, as he surveyed the sight in front of him.    
  
It didn’t seem like Zenyatta had noticed him, and he felt that was best considering he was needing these precious moments to process everything.  His omnic mentor, whom he had grown to see as something more than machine, was wired up like a mechanical marionette.  The machines were rudimentary, not as technical as he was used to, and so many cords splayed about him. He was in a seated position, hands in his lap and head bowed.    
  
_ ‘At least he is upright.’ _ Genji rationalized.   
  
There was a flicker of the lights on his head, and a gentle hum as he seemed to come to, raising his head to meet the gaze of his pupil.  Genji tensed, holding his breath as they held contact, for mere seconds that felt like a millenia.    
  
“Genji--” A smile, he could feel it, “So you are here, I--”   
  
There was a crackle, his voice was disjointed and uneven, but it didn’t seem to deter his spirit.   
  
“I was worried about you, you do not know how relieved I am to see you here.”   
  
He could feel it, the sense of ease his presence brought Zenyatta, his stomach twisted and he felt swelling in his chest.  He hadn't forgotten him.   
  
“Master--” His legs took him there, but his regret and guilt stopped him before he could make contact and he knelt down, forehead to the floor and hands place on either side of him.   
  
“I am sorry.” His voice came out weak, uneven.  Something that was still surprising and unusual due to the mechanical support in his vocals.   
  
“My student? This is not necessary--” Zenyatta said, trying to reach to him.    
  
“I was not focused, if I had remained aware this would have not happened.  I will not fail you again--it is my responsibility to--”   
  
“Genji! This is not necessary, even if I could recall what happened, you would not be to blame.” He insisted, “I should have been cautious, I know the area and it is not your responsibility at all to-”   
  
“Broken wings from a stray shuriken…”    
  
There was a pause from Zenyatta, and Genji could feel the curious stare at the back of his head.   
  
“Pardon me?”   
  
Feeling the weight of regret on his shoulders, the cyborg pulled himself up, hands resting on his knees, unable to meet his gaze.  He was not a child anymore, and Zenyatta was not a sparrow, but the omnic had been saving his life, little by little, as the days went by and in return he had not protected him from a true danger.   
  
“I will not make excuses as I did back then and offer support to another’s suffering with secrets and lies behind me to try and cover my guilt.  I could have protected you and instead I was--”   
  
He felt his heat levels raise, and he silently berated them in his mind.  No, they could not betray him.   
  
His silence gave Zenyatta a chance to speak.   
  
“My dearest student, I do not blame you for the actions of others...whatever your past holds does not place any burden on you for what they chose to do.  And as it stands, I can only assume it was you who brought me here.  If anything, I owe you the deepest apologies for leaving you with that obligation, as well as my sincerest gratitude for saving my life.”   
  
“Master!” Genji reached out, taking his shoulders in his hands, “Do not assume I brought you here out of obligation!”   
  
He spoke louder than he intended, and the steam that released from his vents only brought him more shame and embarrassment.   
  
Zenyatta silenced, holding his gaze steadily while his pupil held fast to him.   
  
“I--I mean I would have…” Genji stammered, trying to regain his footing, “I would have saved you even out of obligation, you have taught me that much.  I do not lack compassion, please don’t confuse my words with that, it is not so simple, I don’t...”   
  
His head ducked in shame, another hiss, another bout of steam.   
  
Silence, with only a soft whisper of the final remnants of his overheating system.    
  
The comforting, warm sensation of omnic energy flowed into him, releasing the tightness in his chest and dismantling tension in his body and he could see the golden glow in his peripheral. Familiar hands reached out, holding his face and Genji swore he  _ felt _ the pad of his robotic thumb brush over the faceplate of his mask.   
  
__ Wishful thinking. He reminded himself, stilling another heating episode.   
  
“Genji, I do not assume you only helped me out of obligation I am sorry I insinuated such a thing.” Zenyatta’s voice flowed within him, strengthened by the energies he provided of harmony and comfort, “You have been through much, now it is my turn to help you.”   
  
He felt tired, warmed by the gentle touches of the iris within him, becoming hyper aware of what lengths he had put his body to in order to save Zenyatta.   
  
The cyborg found it hard to resist the allure of calm healing energy, and the comfort being close to him brought.  Before he could find resistance within him, his head was resting on the tattered fabrics of old monk robes, fingers laced in a familiar hand.

 

\---

  
Zenyatta sat in perfect stillness as his pupil rested there on his lap, hand intertwined in his and a peaceful aura overpowering the distress Genji had been suffering.  In the silence, he had plenty of time to ponder these happenings.   
  
He watched him, head tilting softly while he considered things.   
  
It was likely improper, giving his student this level of physical comfort and offering such support.  But it was methods like this that led him to dispose of the dogma long ago.  He approved of what his brothers stood for, but did not believe methods required no personal touches.    
  
He was starting to wonder what kind of “personal touch” this development was.    
  
Zenyatta wasn’t clueless, he hadn’t been ignorant to Genji’s quiet gaze, and he definitely had seen the steam spewing from his vents the moment he caught him staring.  He wasn’t blind by any means and he wasn’t ignorant.   
  
Now, as he provided a safe place for Genji to rest and feel ease, he had to start considering what it all meant.  More specifically, what it meant to him.   
  
For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt fear.   
  
It was easy to grow close to a singular companion, it was easy for things to get out of hand.  It was so simple to fall into something that was built in a time of loneliness and unrestrained thoughts.  It was so easy to fall, but much harder to drag oneself out if things were not true, or unreciprocated.    
  
What would Genji suffer if he found he did not feel this way as months passed and he was reintroduced to others around him? What would Genji do if he himself could not reciprocate.   
  
The monk observed him, knowing that it was unbelievable to assume he  _ couldn’t _ feel that way.  But he had never given himself the opportunity.  He was a guide for him, a friend even, but being focused on Genji’s recovery had left him reserved in letting himself open the floodgates to emotional attachment.   
  
Perhaps--it was not impossible.   
  
But right now, the priority was seeing him accept the change in himself.   
  
Zenyatta shifted his fingers slightly and Genji held fast to his hand in slumber.  He sighed, and if he could he would be smiling at his hopeless companion.     
  
He could wait until then, perhaps the storms of change would settle and they would see if their paths remained aligned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even a very small degree of hope is enough to cause the birth of love." - Stendhal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you to anyone who is here waiting for this, because I realize it is has been a long time coming. Financial issues wasted my creativity away for quite some time and I'm so glad I was able to bring this back! 
> 
> Your support and beautiful comments continue to inspire me to move forward. I love writing for these angels ♥

“But, it is so soon.  Are you sure it’s alright?”  
  
Zenyatta waited patiently while a shambali monk unhooked him, one by one, from the wires that stabilized him.  Another watched his condition, assessing changes as they went to assure all was well, an unnecessary part but Genji had insisted.  His master felt he had sat long enough in idleness and was ready to be removed from the support, he also expressed that it was time to continue his work as a mentor.  
  
Something that the cyborg wasn’t positive he was ready for, their interactions had been strange and somewhat distant since the other day; falling asleep on his lap had been so unlike him.  And he was dreaming, often, about him.  It was a difficult task to push those thoughts from his mind, but he made an effort.  
  
Besides all of that, he truly was worried about Zenyatta.  
  
“I am perfectly fine, Genji.” The monk mused, “I have already prolonged my recovery, at your request, my worried student.”  
  
He shifted sheepishly, he had been rather insistent; but his Master continued with no judgement in his voice.  
  
“While I am deeply appreciative of your concern, my systems are functioning perfectly on their own now, and I have no need of--all of this.”  
  
He gestured wide to the cords strewn about him, some still attached to his body.  
  
Genji wouldn’t deny that it would be good to see him not strung up like a puppet, he knew it wasn’t like that, but the image he had taken in that first day was still somewhat haunting.    
  
“I suppose you know best.”   
  
Zenyatta chuckled, “I wish to make myself a good host, I am sure you want to venture out to see more instead of being cooped up in here, is that correct?”  
  
Genji didn’t respond immediately, his feelings mixed.  Here he could stay by Zenyatta’s side at all times and he knew he could be protected, safe--and all to himself.  A thought which he quickly quashed; he could be with the monk anywhere so what did it matter where?  Settling on the fact that he would prefer to see the omnic free and back to his old self again trumped all other options.  
  
“I--wanted to wait for your grand tour.” He said, feeling his face shift into a smile was alien to him.  
  
The soft laughter of his Master lifted his spirits quickly, and was a comfort after their slew of awkward, somewhat quiet days.  Something he knew was his own fault, the monk had tried to be sociable, instigating conversation as often as possible, but he had to make everything strange.  Zenyatta hadn’t once shown he was upset by what transpired, a thought that made his insides twist.  
  
“Then please.” He heard him say, jarring him from his thoughts, “No more delays.”  
  
Genji relented.  
  
Finally, stripped of all that withheld him, Zenyatta stood freely.  Metal joints clicking and shifting as he adjusted to the burden of movement again, much like a person would after being bedridden for several days.  
  
Despite his worries, Genji felt his tensions ease when he saw that his Master had been right, there was nothing to worry about now and he was clearly doing well.  He was dressed anew in clean robes, wrapping over one shoulder and reaching the ground.  Cinched at the waist with a sash of similar neutral color.  Despite their fabrics being humble and plain, it gave him a regal air that left Genji short on breath.  
  
Zenyatta hadn’t wished to wear them, fine in his usual attire, but relented when others insisted they at least be cleaned.  The Shimada was coming to appreciate their insistence, albeit, embarrassed by his own inability to look away.  
  
Except once; Genji had respectfully turned his gaze away while he dressed, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was seeing this omnic as human enough to give him privacy while he bared what little ‘skin’ he did not show.   He didn’t think he should further make a fool of himself by watching shamelessly as he might have in the past.  
  
Taking him in now, he felt only awe in the presence of such a radiant presence.  
  
However, it was still disorienting to know he was--taller than him.  It gave him a strange sense of increased embarrassment regarding all of his feelings and their time together.  Not only did Zenyatta continue to prove to be more patient, tolerant and intelligent than him, but he had the advantage of height on him too.  
  
He felt like a foolish child, reaching for a wishing star that was just out of his reach.  
  
“I do not know if I will ever grow used to seeing you stand.” He said, before he could stop the silly words from leaving his mouth.  
  
Zenyatta lowered his arms as everything settled, glancing to his student with a bemused air as he responded.  
  
“I apologize, you may have to tolerate it just a little longer, it isn’t wise for me to use so much omnic energy when I’m just out of recovery.” He tilted his head curiously, “May I ask why it has such a jarring effect on you?”  
  
Genji stiffened.  
  
“You’re taller than me.” The words tumbled out, and he cursed his loose tongue today.  
  
Zenyatta laughed, shoulders shaking with the effort, human and fluid.  It would be hard to believe that the omnic wasn’t a human in an outrageously realistic costume at times, if it weren’t for the fact that any human in that body would have no midsection to speak of.  
  
He didn’t know why he was thinking such strange things…  
  
“I’m sorry, Genji.” The monk said, chuckles dying down, as he gazed at the other, “It is barely an inch, I did not realize it bothered you so.  As soon as I am able, I will take my preferred form of transport, I did not mean to cause you such distress.”   
  
Genji felt his systems alert him to the heat building, and he wanted to hide in shame.  
  
“It--it doesn’t bother me Master...I suppose I just feel more, ignorant the longer I am with you.”  He folded his arms, as he picked his words, “You are wise and full of experience, knowledge that I cannot even begin to comprehend.  I feel vulnerable and childish I suppose.”  
  
The monk cupped his own chin in thought, “Genji, how old are you?”  
  
Tensing, he looked to him quickly in confusion, what a strange question.  
  
“Master--that is a strange question and I’m not sure why you’d ask it.”  
  
Zenyatta hummed knowingly, hands clasping behind his back in a wise manner, a depiction of his mentor status.  
  
“I was manufactured and came to consciousness approximately 20 years ago.  Perhaps the technological aspect of my being gives me /some/ advantage, but in human terms, I am barely reaching the terms of adulthood.  What I have gained is based on my experiences, you have your own too, knowledge and wisdom of things that I do not comprehend.  These are things I have been learning just by trying to guide you.”  
  
He lifted his chin lightly, in what felt to the speechless Genji like a smile.    
  
“Walk with me?” The monk said, making way towards the door.  
  
As it opened and he stepped out, Genji jolted back to attention and picked up a jog to catch up.  
  
“You’re only 20?!” He exclaimed, as the monk laughed.  
  
\---  
  
“So, you mainly grew up here?”  
  
Zenyatta laced his fingers in front of him, “Growing up is a strange term, being that Omnics do not grow and mature as people do, I would not say I grew up here though I have fond memories of this place.  If we’re speaking metaphorically, growing up came when I left behind the teachings to follow my own path to enlightenment.”  
  
“Left behind?” Genji queried, consumed with fascination at a small look at the life of his mentor.  
  
“While we all, in arms, are seeking a shared peace between humanity and omnic-kind...my brothers and sisters here practice with a dogma resembling religion.  A powerful tool, but one requiring a rigid formality that I struggled to uphold.” He bowed his head in a reverence, “So I abandoned this life for one that suited me, perhaps it is selfish of me to believe I know better I am not sure that I do, but I feel that change also requires the warmth of personal touch.”  
  
The cyborg stopped in his tracks, looking at the other with renewed amazement, “So--you left behind all that you knew, this safe space...because you wanted--”  
  
The omnic halted a few strides ahead of him, “I wanted to nurture relationships and companionship, the idea of opening our ‘hearts’ to one another, and not just our mindfulness of the struggles we face, the idea seemed to call me.”  
  
So--he wanted to change the world with love.  At least, that was the simple way of putting it, Zenyatta’s reasonings were clearly so deep and complex.  But a primary motivator was love.  
  
Genji wondered if Zenyatta had ever felt that, the overwhelming emotion of love.  He wondered if he had already experienced the conflict and turmoil it could bring, alongside the joy and enthusiasm for life.  He wondered--was there someone...that his Master sought for that led him to choose this life?  
  
Jealousy was not becoming.  
  
“Master? If you abandoned this life for what you wanted, why did you guide me here?”  
  
The monk turned his gaze toward him, tilting his head, “...Nostalgia I suppose, strange, isn’t it? I do not mean that I don’t believe you will find some answers to your turmoil here, but I can’t deny that directing us here was not simply motivated by your tutelage...Perhaps--”  
  
He paused at that thought, turning his gaze forward again, he continued walking.  
  
Genji had to smother a gasp of confusion, never knowing Zenyatta to be one to leave a sentence unfinished.  He caught up to him quickly, resisting the urge to reach out and clasp his shoulder.  
  
“Perhaps what?”  
  
Zenyatta hummed, “I promise to tell you why, when I understand it myself.”   
  
The cyborg balked, not wishing to accept an unsatisfactory answer so quickly.  But seeing his Master already seemed to have filed the thought away, he sighed despondently and bowed his head in defeat.  
  
“Come.” The monk spoke, warmth filling his voice and making it hard for Genji to remain angry for long, “There is still so much I want you to see.”  
  
\---  
  
Standing at the top tier, just outside of the temple, the two of them watched the levels below and savored the quiet calm of the scene.   
  
“It is beautiful here.” Genji said, voice soft and distant, “How strange.”  
  
“Why is that, my pupil?”  
  
“I have never given myself the time to appreciate my surroundings...it is calming, this place gives me a sense of reassurance.”   
  
Genji felt the gaze of his mentor and found he turned his own to automatically greet it.  
  
“I am pleased that you feel that way, you are always welcome at this place.  Truthfully, I was afraid I would not be welcomed back myself.” The monk chuckled, while Genji speechlessly wondered how anyone could turn him away.  
  
Genji folded his arms, forcing his eyes forward as he tried to make sense of the emotions twisting about inside of him.  He had not spoken openly of them to the monk once, how could he? He was the student and Zenyatta his teacher.  But after hearing what he had today about what he’d given up to pursue his own cause, he wondered if it was such a horrible thing to wish?   
  
Then his younger self came into the inner fight, reminding him that he wasn’t his type anyway, he’d bed a number of desirables of all kinds, of all looks and types.  He hadn’t necessarily turned his nose up completely to omnics, but those were--particular models.  
  
Zenyatta was rudimentary, simple and effective in his design but still nothing more than a base.  
  
‘ _No…_ ’ He argued with himself there, as he glanced sideways at the monk.  
  
No, he wasn’t just like any other omnic, the way he lifted his chin when he showed a smile, how his shoulders shook and he itched to grip his sides when he laughed.  Tilting his head in thought when curious thoughts struck him, or how he showed such a variety of emotions with a singular expression.  
  
The scratches and imperfections that were all his own, he was sure there were stories behind the small grooves across his face and the rough texture of fingers that have touched much of the world around him, the smoothness having been worn away.   
  
And besides, he argued with his younger self, it wasn’t as if his affections were simply in place to bed him.  
  
The thought made him quickly turn his gaze, steam hissing from his vents as he put a hand to his faceplate in embarrassment.  
  
“I am sorry, Master, I--I will return later.”   
  
Before he could be swayed by questioning or protest, Genji leapt--his agility serving him well in escaping the situation, the plague of thoughts that were haunting his entire being trailed along after him.  
  
\---  
  
Genji lost count of how many helpless stumps of wood he brutally destroyed in his need for a sparr, for a release of mental and physical tension. For the slightest escape out of the labyrinth of emotions consuming his every waking moment.  
  
Wherever he looked, whatever he thought, whatever he felt--it all led back to him.  
  
Zenyatta. The name was etching itself into the walls around his heart, chipping away, cracking the surface; the light seeking the soft, frailty of his injured heart.  
  
And while the careless whimsy of his admiration had it’s charm when beside the other, it left a bitter taste in his mouth while lamenting in solitude. Fingers twitched as he gripped his shuriken and struck a perfect line down the center of the stump, which cracked and shuttered under the impact.  
  
‘ _Idiot, stupid--foolish....hopeless coward.’_  
  
He paced, fingers flexing at his sides as he drowned in a whirlpool of self-observation.  
  
Back then, he could have anyone he wanted, a few well-placed compliments and his gleaming smile would sweep just about anyone through his door.  He had it all, he was Genji Shimada and nobody could turn him down.  
  
Here he was now, Genji--the cyborg--pining hopelessly for his omnic Master, and too afraid to tell him.  
  
Why?  
  
The weight of it all hit him suddenly and he found himself seated on the ground, head in hands.   
  
“Because he’s far too good for someone like me.”  
  
He could almost feel the disapproving gaze, the flick to his visor, the chiding words of the other as he was scolded for such thoughts.  He could feel his presence and the imploring terms of trying to get him to love himself.  But how--how could he love himself like this? How could he love himself when all his being had become a machine for murder?  How could he when he found an omnic to be far more human than he ever could be?  
  
He felt the phantom warmth of a hand, and the glow of the iris around him as Zenyatta would try to make him feel at peace with himself.  He would do all he could to silence those inner demons and wipe away the guilt.  Genji’s head lifted, and he smiled weakly behind his mask, unable to argue with the words of his imaginary tutor that blended beautifully with the music he sometimes played.   
  
Perhaps he should listen, indulge for just a moment.  
  
He shifted, moving into the meditation position Zenyatta had helped him perfect.  Hands poised in his lap, he felt every inch of his human--and cyborg body--and willed it to calm.  
  
Breath in.  
  
Exhale.  
  
Genji sank into a comfortable silence, allowing his mind to freely navigate his thoughts.  
  
\---  
  
Zenyatta found his wait to leave him with a sense of impatience, an urgency and concern at where Genji might have run off to.  He had his suspicions, the monk was aware of how he’d often go sparring when he had a lot on his mind.  
  
Lacing his fingers in his lap, he exhaled the sound of a sigh, though the physical need was not there.  
  
Force of habit.  
  


He worried about his student, and pondered their time together.  He couldn’t deny he felt the growing of painful fear that his presence could hinder him more than help the struggle of his soul.  He had never meant to stir any sort of confusion in his heart.   
  
Zenyatta woefully began to acknowledge the fact that he’d made mistakes himself, though he hadn’t been exactly formal with Genji, he’d also kept him at arm's length emotionally.  The teachings of the Shambali still ran deep it seemed, and perhaps that was only further contributing to the strange energy between them.  He had realized it before, when Genji fell asleep on his lap, but hadn’t really considered the consequences of feigning ignorance. It seemed to have been an unconscious decision, forcing things to remain unsaid, and the build-up of emotions could not be healthy for Genji.   
  
Or for himself, he thought, as he sat consumed with his unease.   
  
As he brooded, he knew that while he could guide Genji on a path of hope and understanding, the only changes he could enforce were within himself.  He had to change, regardless of what his original goals had been, and what were they more than an egotistical belief that he knew what was best? He had much still to learn himself.   
  
He had to open the floodgates to the cyborg’s current struggle, unspoken words must be allowed to enter their universe and wherever it left them, it would at least bring acknowledgement to what pained him   
  
Zenyatta raised his head, watching the sky as clouds slowly filled it, perhaps they would have snow.   
  
He stood, folding hands together as he prepared himself for the coming wave, hoping Genji would return soon.   
  
\---   
  
Genji scaled the rock face and used his superior acrobatics with haste as he tried to return to the Nepal village as quickly as possible.  The sun was setting and he had been lost in a meditative trance for much longer than he had intended.   
  
_ Idiot! _   
  
He finally arrived, startling a couple of people walking with an omnic monk as he raced by them, too hurried to acknowledge nearly plowing them over.   
  
His only thoughts were not upsetting his Master--he’d left so quickly, with little thought or care, he’d been selfish.  So embarrassed by his own selfish, impure thoughts that he had abandoned him there without explanation. He would have to apologize--profusely.   
  
He stopped only once, realizing he had no idea where Zenyatta might be, and questioned a monk he found cleaning the floor.     
  
When he made it to the room, he slowed--allowing himself the calm to not burst into the room at full speed.  He could see him there, standing with his back turned to him.    
  
Inhale.   
  
Exhale.   
  
He stepped inside the open doorway, ready to be scolded for his rash actions.   
  
“Master!”   
  
“Genji!”   
  
They both stopped, having spoken at once quickly and excitedly, the monk having turned hearing him approach.   
  
“I-I’m sorry Master…” Genji managed, a bit startled by the tone of Zenyatta’s voice.   
  
The monk sighed, in what sounded like relief, walking over to him.   
  
“Do not apologize, I am glad you have returned safe--” Zenyatta stopped in front of him, looking at him with a contemplative expression.   
  
“I can see that you’re filled to the brim with words you wish to share, but if I can ask selfishly that you hold them a moment longer, there are things I wish to speak with you.”   
  
Genji tensed, gaze averting secretly behind the visor, here it came...he had offended him by running off when he was supposed to be enjoying the tour.  The cyborg struggled with a mixture of guilt and self preservation, wanting to be allowed the chance to explain before being reprimanded but also feeling that Zenyatta deserved to speak first as he hadn’t allowed him to speak at all.   
  
“I wish to apologize to you, Genji.”   
  
“Master?” He looked up, surprised at the sudden omission.   
  
“Well, apologize by provoking a change in direction.  I have been--insensitive, despite my best intents.”   
  
Genji was bewildered, appalled even, that Zenyatta could actually call himself insensitive with all that he was and all that he did for him.  It was ludicrous, but the monk raised a hand to silence his protests.   
  
“My student, please wait while I explain, perhaps we could sit down?”   
  
The room was vacant, save for seating pillows on the floor and a small table to the side with incense burning in it.  The monk took a seat on the floor, looking up expectantly for him to join, which he did with unwilling confusion.  He did not like that he had to sit back and say nothing while his Master doubted his own abilities.   
  
“There is something I wish to discuss with you, or rather, something I want you to speak about.  And I am sure this subject does not come easily as you’ve remained silent and I have chosen to falsely portray myself as ignorant.” The monk sighed, lamenting, “I simply did not wish to cause you discomfort but it seems that it has only succeeded in furthering it while you struggle with your own thoughts.”   
  
Genji struggled between confusion and fear, Zenyatta wasn’t being clear so he couldn’t be sure what he was referring to, but he also knew  _ exactly _ what he had been struggling with as of late and he wasn’t sure he was ready for what his Master had to say about it.   
  
“You do not have to fear me, or what I will think of you, Genji.  I have noticed...I have caught your gaze, your way of speaking, the fear you have when those barriers drop in my presence and you seek my touch.  I have seen it all--”   
  
The cyborg felt heat rise rapidly, his sensors blaring and nearly drowning out all sound.   
  
“--And I have foolishly ignored it, to give you privacy to feelings you feared sharing. But I see now that it is only draining your confidence, it is plaguing your thoughts and turning my presence into one of discomfort, a reminder of many things even I cannot begin to guess.”   
  
He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t.  He would be lying.     
  
It killed him to be around Zenyatta, because he felt something growing for him and he was afraid of it blooming and the result causing his companion to detest and rebuke him.  The old Genji pined after people, the old Genji would try to court and pursue--the old Genji was murdered for his frivolity.   
  
“Genji, please, speak your mind to me.”   
  
Genji flinched, “I am afraid.”   
  
“What are your fears then, my pupil?”   
  


“I do not wish to be alone...looked upon with discomfort or disgust...I do not want to look like a fool.”   
  
He watched the thoughtful tilt of his Master’s head.   
  
“Do you think that your feelings are foolish?”   
  
“I--” He stopped, the question disconnecting his mind for a moment.   
  
Was gaining feelings for Zenyatta foolish of him? If he said no, that implied that his fears of being seen as such were senseless and self-wrought (which they were but it was hard to admit).  If he said yes...then, that meant he found having feelings for the omnic to be foolish and undesirable because--   
  
“No.” He met his gaze, firmly though his heart was in his gut, “No they are not…”   
  
_ Inhale. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Exhale. _   
  
He thought to his meditation, the past few months, his time in Overwatch, his family--back further and further to the root of all that he once was.  And nothing lined up but everything connected regardless.  His childish trysts as a youth, spending his nights with various lovers and admirers.  His family and his bond to them, each unique and personal, ending in betrayal and pain which stunted all feelings.  Overwatch--his teammates, the people who saved him and offered him a second chance, though the memory still stung as he was used as a weapon, there were those who cared for him.  He, in turn, left them all behind to find himself, ill-spent time agonizing over what he was and hating it.   
  
And then, he met Zenyatta.   
  
He gazed at him, pulse quickening, the kind-hearted monk who wanted nothing more than to see him at peace.  He wasn’t, that was no lie, he still felt his lip curl in disgust when he would chance a look at his own reflection.  He felt the pain of the scars on his face and body, the phantom ache of limbs no longer attached, the emptiness of what felt like a husk with no soul.   
  
But Zenyatta, a glowing ray of hope, had never let that sway him from staying at his side.  Seeing to it personally that he was not alone, that he could not just antagonize himself openly without being drowned with compliments and words of encouragement.   
  
Zenyatta--who did not know him--cared regardless.   
  
And he coveted his warmth as time went on, before it set a fire in his heart, which he thought was long dead.  And though it was still soft and uncertain, he felt it was growing out of his control.     
  
“My feelings…I do not know what to make of them, but I do know that they are inspired by you.” He said, treading with caution, words laced with uncertainty and fear.   
  
“I admire you, and I grow in awe the longer I am with you.  You’re capabilities for compassion are more than I’ve seen in most of humanity and it is hard to believe that some still find your kind to be less than human.  I am comforted in your presence, but I am troubled by my thoughts and feelings...I knew them before but--when you were attacked.”   
  
He stopped, voice catching in his throat as the emotion of the moment filled him again, panic, sorrow, anger…   
  
“Master, you are forgiving, patient and whole...you would not have done as I did.  Not then--not ever.”    
  
Zenyatta seemed perplexed, “I am sorry, as I do not remember the event...I cannot guess as to what you mean.”   
  
Genji lowered his head, clenching fists on his knees.   
  
“You deserve more than a mindless killer.”   
  
Silence.   
  
Heavy, deafening, silence.   
  
“Genji…”   
  
“I am sorry, Master...though I lack guilt for what I did, I only feel shame that I am not worthy of you.”    
  
“No, Genji, do not base your feelings off of your sense of self-worth.”    
  
The cyborg covered his visor with a hand, pain and anguish building in his core.  The weight of it all crashing down as he felt surrounded by water, unraveling, drowning in a sea of self-depreciating hell.   
  
And then his hands were lifted, taken in the others and held gently.   
  
“Do not assume your sense of self, is a reflection of what I think of you.”   
  
His hands twitched, afraid to grasp his but seeking purchase.   
  
Zenyatta’s warmth radiated from him, and part of him shunned it.  Why? Why was he so forgiving? So patient? He didn’t deserve it.   
  
“I myself cannot confess of anything to you without bending the truth, I care for you dearly, my student, but I have not--thought to think of you in that light.”    
  
Surprisingly, the admission was painful--but expected.  Genji had to fight himself to not sink further into despair.   
  
“I understand, Master.”   
  
“However.” Zenyatta pressed, holding more firmly to his palms, “That does not mean I do not wish you to feel to the fullest degree, Genji I have been part of a people who are hated and ridiculed.  It is far easier to view the world through a lense of separation when you do not expect others to seek you out, let alone grow such trust and respect for you.  Your feelings certainly change the narrative, and admittedly I am confused by them.”   
  
Genji raised his gaze again, feeling pain for himself and the monk. He had not thought about it in that light, of course being an omnic would put one in a difficult position regarding attraction, it would be turmoil that he only could fathom from his own fear of confessing to the other.  He turned his head to look at their hands, similar but different.   
  
He only felt more shame thinking he was suffering over this.   
  
“This is a path I can promise nothing from, but I do know that I care for you and I do not resent you.”     
  
Genji felt his warm hand as his face was lifted to look upon him once more, heart pounding in his chest.   
  
“You...do not find my affections repulsive?” He questioned.   
  
Zenyatta laughed softly, “Repulsive? Genji--how many times must I express what a marvel--a wonder of life I see you as?  How many times must I burden you with my ‘cryptic’ words describing your own beauty? Do not think I did not notice them affecting you.”   
  
Steam flushed from his vents, the cyborg feeling like he would just like to disappear at this moment.  That, or that it wouldn’t end, despite not having the returned affections he might have hoped for.   
  
“Again and again it seems.” He joked, weakly, back.   
  
“Very well, whatever it takes to help you embrace the light that glows within you, because you are beautiful, Genji, mind, body and soul.  Your faults do not make you less so and they will not sway me from you.  You--”   
  
The cyborg hastily cut in, another bout of steam escaping him, “O-okay, maybe not right now.”    
  
Zenyatta laughed and it didn’t help his fluster, though he smiled behind his mask.   
  
He could feel the burn on his face, a warmth he still was not used to, something real and...human about him.     
  
“I am sorry, that I have acted so--strangely these past days.  And that...I have been painfully obvious, I thought I was discrete.”   
  
“Perhaps I am just observant.” The monk hummed, “All is well, and I do not want you to hold in your thoughts, your feelings may not always lead to what you hope for but that does not mean it is better to feel nothing at all.”   
  
“I--suppose.” Genji said, not quite convinced.   
  
It felt less heavy, certainly, to be open and sincere about what he felt.  But it stung deeply to know for certain that his affections were not returned.   
  
“Consider that unspoken feelings will never lead to anything, things change, minds change.  Seeds must be planted for flowers to bloom.”   
  
Genji froze.   
  
“I...I will remember that.” He could not feel his heartbeat and wondered if it really was possible for it to stop.   
  
Zenyatta lowered his hand, the cyborg missing the comforting pressure even through his mask.     
  
It seemed the time for this discussion was over, but that did not mean the feelings had died, if nothing else he felt a deeper connection that was a both frightening and thrilling.   
  
“Genji, this place was once my home, I stayed within these walls for many days before pursuing my own path.  You’ve followed a path yourself that has brought you here and I want you to know, here you are safe and free of judgement.  Here, if you wish, even when you are no longer my student--you can be home.”   
  
“Home? I am not sure I know what that feels like.” Genji responded.   
  
“Perhaps not now, and perhaps not here…” The monk was silent for a moment, gaze downcast, “But know that it is open to you if you seek it.”   
  
He nodded, a bit confused as to why the other was speaking about it now, but grateful for his offer.   
  
“Thank you.”   
  
“You are welcome.”   
  
There was a silence between them, both at a loss for words, despite the understanding between them now it was clear that a conclusion would take time to reach.  Either--things would change, as Zenyatta had said, or Genji would lose interest in time.   
  
He didn’t know if either were possible, and it brought him some fear.   
  
“I believe I have exerted myself quite enough for today, and I do not want to cause you more anxiety over the state of my health.  Shall we retire?”   
  
Genji nodded slowly, “Yes--but if it is alright, I will join you in a moment.”   
  
“Of course.”    
  
As Zenyatta left him, Genji allowed the pain to have it’s time, head in hands as he accepted things for what they were at the moment.  Even with a chance, a glimmer of hope, he still felt so much fear and uncertainty.   
  
Because, while deep in meditation, he had seen his path as clear as day.     
  
_ A golden aura intertwined with a shining dragon, traveling to the ends of an expanding universe.   _   
  
His destiny was already linked to Zenyatta forever, and it was a future that he knew could bring him joy and peace.    
  
But...fate had a strange way of tearing people apart, even if their future was written in stone.  Three dragons torn apart by bloodshed and hatred, no matter what stories were written, no matter what dreams he had once had, nothing could repair what was broken.  And however desperately he wanted to believe the vision in his trance was nothing like the ones of his youth, how desperately he hoped it actually held truth...   
  
He could not force that golden light to follow the path his own spirit had laid out for them.   
  
Feeling a chill, his sensors adjusted his temperature to combat the change around him, and outside he saw the first signs of snowfall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”  
> ― Lewis Carroll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already in the works AND I was able to buy a computer. ♥♥ Happy New Year everyone, I look forward to your feedback, and I hope 2018 is a blessed year!

“Family?”  
  
A silence of thought.   
  
“As far as traditional standards dictate, I do not have nor fully understand the concept of a family.”   
  
“Ah--is that difficult for you?”   
  
Genji, looking for any distractions and having his interest piqued with small hints of Zenyatta’s life, had taken to asking him questions.  Any questions he would answer, and he was comforted that when Zenyatta didn’t have an answer or didn’t want to, he easily swayed the question away.  The cyborg realized quickly he was doing it for his sake, so he wasn’t dissuaded from asking.   
  
“No, I suppose being built and programmed at one time, it was hard to understand something as intimate and complex as a family.  However, I’ve built my own over time, though I may not be as connected to mine as others, I consider many in this place to be apart of it.”   
  
Zenyatta paused briefly, “Especially my brother, Mondatta.”   
  
Genji straightened in surprise, leaning forward with interest at the subject.   
  
“Brother? I had--I had no idea?”   
  
The monk chuckled, “Not in the traditional sense, but yes--Mondatta and I share the namesake Tekhartha, he was my mentor in this place and I grew to admire and look up to him very much.  Our beliefs may differ, but I still believe he does what he deems best for the sake of Omnic’s and humans alike.”   
  
While the social aspect of this Mondatta was curious, he was still comprehending the idea that his Master had someone he called a brother.   
  
“Well, I admit I am a bit surprised you haven’t introduced me to him yet.” He scoffed, a tinge of playful resentment on his voice.     
  
The amused hum in Zenyatta’s voice made him smile, “Genji, if he were here, I would have introduced you immediately.  Mondatta travels to spread benevolent teachings all over the world, from what I’ve gathered he left not long before we arrived.”   
  
“Oh! I’m sorry Master, I did not realize.  When is he to return?”   
  
“A week at most I believe, he is sharing a series of speeches in London, the tensions are still incredibly thick there…”  The monk trailed off, lowering his gaze briefly, “Unfortunately, there are still many places that seem to share the sentiments of separation.”   
  
The scars on his face wrinkled as a frown creased the corners of his mouth, and Genji had to lower his gaze as well.   
  
“In Hanamura--my home, we employed omnics.  They were part of our society, yet we still saw them as machines following orders, their programming dictating everything they did.  I had never spent extensive amount of time around them, not that I minded them but there was that unspoken discomfort in me that seems to be common in humanity.” He lamented, “I am sorry for my ignorance, I know you did not know me then but I am ashamed of my ways of thought, I have learned the difference with you.”   
  
“Mm? And what is that my student.”   
  
He raised his gaze to meet Zenyatta’s, who had perked in curiosity.   
  
“You have a soul, I have seen it, and felt it...there is no doubt in my mind.”   
  
The monk paused, a flicker of surprise in his lights, bowing his head slightly in reverence and humility.   
  
“Thank you, Genji.” He said, the sincerest of warmth in his voice.   
  
Genji flushed behind his mask, clearing his throat.   
  
“Don’t thank me, you are the one who shared it with me, I could not have seen it without your guidance.”   
  
There was a mutual silence for a moment, as both took in the energy around them and processed it.   
  
“Regardless.” Zenyatta said, speaking first, “The sentiment is deeply meaningful.”   
  
The monk folded his arms in his lap, tilting his head at his student.   
  
“While I enjoy our conversation, I believe we’ve evaded this meditation long enough, there is still much you could learn and self-appreciation for you to find.”   
  
Genji winced, “Ah--yes that, that mysterious thing, you keep mentioning that.”   
  
Zenyatta scoffed, a slight laughter, “Do you call my words false? Such a lack of faith, my student.”   
  
Genji laughed softly himself, warmed by the banter, “Well...I don’t think I can even imagine you a liar, so I have to trust you, though I have doubts on my own ability to seek it.”   
  
“Genji.” He said sternly.   
  
“Of course--I must not remain an enemy to myself.”   
  
Zenyatta sighed, shaking his head in mild exasperation.   
  
And Genji smiled sheepishly.   
  
“Apologies, Master, let us begin.”  He took position, “I am ready.”   
  
“Your Sacral Chakra, my student, is located here.” The monk explained, pressing a hand to his own lower abdomen.   
  
“It is the center of you, your guilt and dismay is clouding all that is true and honestly you inside.  You lack confidence, the willingness to flow with changes around you, your emotions are stunted and confused by the imbalance here.”   
  
Genji flinched, the words were harsh but painfully accurate.   
  
“Right--” The cyborg strained, hand pressing just below his belly, “The center of me…”   
  
“What makes you happy?”   
  
He paused, lifting his head to look at the omnic across from him, “...what?”   
  
“What makes you happy, Genji?” Zenyatta repeated.   
  
Fingers twitched and the cyborg suddenly found the ground very interesting.  Luckily for him, Zenyatta seemed to read the air and revised his question.   
  
“When you were young, full of innocent enthusiasm, what did you do to curb sadness.  What activities brought you joy?”   
  
Genji closed his eyes, breathing out slowly as he coaxed those memories to the forefront of his thoughts.  There was sunlight, filtered through the blooming of the cherry blossoms, brothers playing, sparring together with toys resembling weapons that had never seen bloodshed.  A mother; beautiful, an embodiment of warmth and patience.  A father, strong and true, perhaps not always present but he had certainly appreciated the freedom he allowed.   
  
Family.   
  
_“Then you are no brother of mine”_   
  
The thought quickly turned sour, bloodshed and death had marked his childhood and ripped it from him.  The joy in those things were filled with an emptiness, there was nothing to return to, that world had long since died with him.   
  
“Nothing that has not been tainted.” Genji expressed, returning his gaze to the world he was in now, and the monk across from him.   
  
Comforted, once again, by the warmth that filled him.   
  
“But...I do know what brings me joy now.”   
  
Zenyatta tilted his head, but nodded softly.   
  
“Perhaps what brings you joy now can assist in clearing away the darkness that disconnects you from your past.  Tragedies often soil what was once beautiful, but that does not change that it _was_ beautiful.  I do not blame you for your discontentment, but to forget that there was once good, erases the purpose of all the tragedies you face.”   
  
The monk rested hands in his lap, “Think of it this way, when we were traveling before, and we admired the trees, their colors, their rise to the sky and the filter of light through them.  Would you say it was beautiful.”   
  
Genji took a moment to recall, “Yes, I would say so.” He agreed.   
  
“Behind those trees, in the wake of the light, were shadows.  They spread behind them, sheltering the ground in darkness.  At the pinnacle of daylight, shadows pressed down upon, forced close to the ground while the sun tries to smother them from high above.  But as the day presses on, they grow longer, heavier, filling all they touch with darkness.”   
  
“Shadows are natural, all things create shadows if it exists on this world.  Just as all things experiencing joy are hiding a wake of emotions behind them, pain, anger, suffering of all kinds.  At our highest points, the shadows are nothing more than a small tracing of our roots, unless you lift your feet you can hardly notice them.  But they are there, under the grooves and curves of all that is good around you, while a child plays they may skin their knee but it is nothing more than a quick lapse of a happiness that will soon skim over that moment.”   
  
Zenyatta focused on him, “But the night will come for everyone, and at times, not even moonlight is there to ease the darkness.  Still, just because it is night and the moon is new, we don’t forget the day before.  Your memories are filled with light and dark times, the happiness you experienced was as real as the suffering you were inflicted, if it was not, you would not be so broken hearted by its end.”   
  
Genji was silent.   
  
“But night comes Genji, and when all seems lost, when the sky is dark and stars are absent, daylight is still inevitable.”   
  
All parts of his tortured spirit wanted to argue, to laugh at the absurdity of such an optimistic view.  To tell Zenyatta such an ideal did not exist, to let the hurt and anger cloud everything.  It took all of his willpower to fight that response back.   
  
Because--he wasn’t wrong.  Even after he had suffered, if he argued the world was awful and had only brought him sorrow, then he was denying all of the warmth and joy he had been brought by the presence in front of him.   
  
“It is okay to be angry, Genji.”   
  
He exhaled heavily, having held in a breath, “I hate it when you are irrefutable. How can you possibly be so wise?”   
  
Zenyatta said nothing, but Genji could feel his smile.   
  
He relented, again.   
  
“I was...so happy back then, my family, friends, the lifestyle I lived.  They all made me happy--but why think of those things if it is not who I am now? That version of me died--”   
  
“That version of you was real, he lived, he breathed, and he gave his life for you to be who you are now.  And perhaps this is not what he expected or believed he wanted.  But he did give you much of what you are now, the evolution does not mean that all of the past is gone, because you’re here.  His mistakes have also given you wisdom to thrive where he failed--that part of your life is ended--you must let go of his expectations of you because you are a different person now.”   
  
The monk paused briefly, thinking, “It seems that humanity often fears that rather than celebrates it, becoming a different person, but it is a beautiful part of the natural course.  You grow and change physically, why not in every other way?”   
  
The cyborg found the statement enlightening but it unhinged his thoughts.  It was true, though usually by association more than personal discontent.  He had no one from his past to associate with that could complain about his “changes”, maybe that was why his had become so personal?   
  
“Celebrating evolution…” he thought quietly.   
  
“Let’s try something different.”   
  
Genji paused, bowing his head slightly, “You’re the expert, Master.”   
  
“Not at all.” He mused, “Or I wouldn’t be coming up with new solutions.”   
  
Irrefutable, again.   
  
“What is it you want me to do?”   
  
Zenyatta settled better into his meditative position, and Genji followed suit without pause.   
  
“How do you feel about hypnosis?”   
  
In a reasonable response, Genji leaned back on a hand in alarm.   
  
“Hypnosis?”   
  
The chiming laughter of his mentor only made him more nervous.   
  
“Do not look so worried, it is not a ‘magicians’ hypnosis--which you shouldn’t fear either, that is more power of suggestion rather than real magic.  Hypnosis, in this case, is allowing yourself freely into the recesses of your own mind with the help of a guide.  Ergo, I am your guide to help you find what we seek on your memories.”   
  
It still sounded like hokey magic, but he couldn’t imagine Zenyatta pulling rabbits out of top hats or hypnotising people to act foolishly in front of a jeering audience, so he put his trust in his mentor above his concerns.   
  
“Very well.” He said, apprehensively positioning himself again, somewhat less comfortably.   
  
The monk shifted, sitting in front of him offering his hands to his student.  With the turmoil in Genji’s mind, he wanted to provide him a physical anchor to this world.   
  
“Believe in the iris and it will guide you, I promise I will not put you in danger.”   
  
Genji’s heart fluttered as he rested his hands on the ones presented him.   
  
_‘I believe in you.’_ _  
_ _  
_ He closed his eyes, and Zenyatta began instructing him.   
  
“Breathe deeply, begin by relaxing all of your physical self, as I countdown from ten.  When I am finished, you will be completely relaxed.”   
  
Genji nearly shivered at the sensation of Zenyatta’s thumbs brushing over his hands.   
  
“And I am here with you, do not fear.”   
  
That brought him some comfort and he let himself succumb to the steady warmth of the other’s voice.  It didn’t take long at all, and he felt his body weighed down by something akin to sleep paralysis, but far less distressing.   
  
“Imagine your life as it is now, all of your accomplishments, your shortcomings, your changes in appearance and otherwise.  That person is you, and you’re standing freely in this place, a safe place--what is this safe place?”   
  
Genji was quiet for a moment, realizing that he was being instructed to create this setting that he would be in, it felt a bit silly but he didn’t dare say so.   
  
He concentrated, trying to push aside those thoughts, visualizing his settings.   
  
“There are trees, trees everywhere--” He said, as the image faintly began to present itself in his mind.   
  
“Is there daylight?”   
  
“Yes--it seems to be early evening.” Genji watched, the image coming closer, more apparent and less fuzzy.  The warm caress of the setting sun filtering through the foliage, and the air was still warm.   
  
“...oh, this is the place you and I walked, that you spoke of before.” He noted, remembering suddenly, the path growing familiar and distinct.   
  
Yes, this was the same place.   
  
“What a wonderful setting, though it is your own now, you are experiencing it in your own subconscious solitude.”   
  
Genji looked around, he was definitely alone...and he coveted the companionship of his Master.     
  
_Inhale._ _  
_ _  
_ _Exhale._   
  
He was surprised that despite being here alone, he was not afraid.     
  
“Perhaps you should walk the path, and enjoy the evening for what it is.”   
  
Genji walked, admiring the trees again but in a new light, with new eyes opened by the influence of his mentor.  This place was a positive memory now, though the lingering of the past still haunted him.   
  
“Take in all that you see, and how you perceive it, how it feels.”   
  
“I feel--peace, but with lament...I remember my past here too.”   
  
“Do you feel the way you did then?”   
  
“...no.” He said, after a moment.   
  
He did not appreciate the world around him the same way as he did now.  He was different, somehow, changed...even from that day.     
  
“If the past you were to meet the present, what would he say?”   
  
Genji started, “Past me?”   
  
“Yes, if you were to have met you as you’ve become when you were young, what would _you_ have said.”   
  
And suddenly, there he was, standing in front of him, though for a moment he didn’t know who he was looking at.  Seeing oneself was disarming, to say the least, but it was him just as he had last remembered.  Startling green hair and silver eyes looking him over with curiosity.   
  
“What are you supposed to be?”   
  
Genji frowned, at himself, though it could not be seen.   
  
_‘I’m you.’_ He wanted to say.   
  
But he wouldn’t have known.   
  
“Just a stranger, passing through.” He said, voice sounding alarmingly robotic when he heard the sound of his younger self.   
  
“You feel--familiar somehow.  I feel like I know you, but I’ve never seen you before...and I’ve seen everyone.”   
  
“Perhaps you have--or not, not yet anyway.”   
  
The younger Genji raised thick dark brows, the so-called stranger’s words sounding cryptic and meaningful.  Nothing he had time to decipher.   
  
“But I suppose you have not seen everyone.” He noted, thinking then of Overwatch, of all of those he’d met--of Zenyatta, “there’s always more to see.”   
  
Snorting, his younger self folded his arms, “Anyway, what are you supposed to be? Some kind of omnic?”   
  
He tensed...a machine, just a machine.  That is how he appeared, is that not what he was? Humanity stripped and replaced with metal and wire, missing the gentle give of skin and muscle.   
  
“Not--exactly, a man once, who lost everything and gave up more to become this...to survive.”   
  
_Against my will…_   
  
Young Genji lit up, “That sounds--really cool actually.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“Like the films I’ve seen, it really fits the plot points, cool ninja guy nearly dies in a tragic fight? Is revived as an awesome looking cyborg that defends the city? How amazing is that?!”   
  
Genji was taken aback, “Well I--never thought of it that way?”   
  
“Cyborg ninja--you look like the silent type, a hero who does good things for people without asking anything in return? Tragic backstory that you don’t like to talk about...you’re the person I wanted to grow up to be.  Less pain, though, but cool and eclectic.”   
  
He couldn’t stifle an amused hum, “Do you even know what that word means?”   
  
He shot himself a look, “Don’t patronize me.”   
  
Waving his hands at his younger self, he apologized, “Right, right sorry--I forget you hated teasing.”   
  
Thick eyebrows raised in apparent confusion, quickly Genji reverted the topic.   
  
“So...you want to grow up to be like me?”   
  
“Yeah, you seem like you can kick ass...and you get to be free, to do anything you want.”   
  
That struck him, looking down at metal hands, cold--unfeeling...or something else?  Had he really--become what he always dreamed? Free? From the expectations of the clan, his family, his duty? Free from all of the weight that had been the undoing of his brother?   
  
He had not given into the demands made of him, he’d stood his ground and refused to be something he did not want.  Yes, he gave a hefty price, but the death of his old life, gave him the birth of this one that held no expectations of him, at least as soon as Overwatch had finished with him.   
  
And really, he did look pretty _cool_ in spite of it all.   
  
“You know something, I think you’ll get your dream...maybe not how you expect to, and it won’t always be easy…” He began, facing his younger self once again, an old memory, once happy but not what he needed--the path was always the same in each cycle, no matter how he held onto what felt unfair.   
  
“However--”  He felt the warmth, the golden glow of the iris within him.   
  
“There is more to it all than just cool costumes and agility, you don’t realize it now but you will see.”   
  
Genji touched a hand to his chest, “It has little meaning, if you have nothing in your heart that you care for enough to protect.”   
  
His past self would think he was intolerably sentimental, but that memory faded away as he accepted their final farewells, watching the image of himself disappear into nothing.  He was happy then, yes, but after all he had experienced he couldn’t hate those memories or hate himself then.  Despite his flaws as a boy, he had been doing what felt right, and despite the cost he made it through.   
  
Why not learn from who he once was, and live a little.  Do what felt right.   
  
And if he hadn’t been through it all, he thought, feeling the presence drawing him back to the present world.   
  
_I would have never met him._   
  
Moments ago, he would have said tears were a new weakness of his, as he fell into the comfort of the others arms.  But now, they were symbolic, a sign of something he was beginning to accept fully about himself.   
  
He was still human.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are chained by our own control. Life is nothing more than finding the key that unlocks every part of our soul.”  
> ― Shannon L. Alder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a bit longer than expected but I'm finally satisfied with where this chapter went. Writing a new perspective required me to back-peddle quite a few times and figure out what I wanted this chapter to invoke. Thanks to everyone for their beautiful feedback ♥ it really inspires me!

Genji felt the passage of time, when his tears had finally run dry, and knew it was time to release his hold on his benevolent Master who had patiently consoled him.   
  
After helping him to his feet, Zenyatta stood before him more impressioned on his heart than ever, he had shared copious words of comfort and praise during his emotional release.  And Genji could feel that the other was elated by what he was discovering, the doors he was opening.   
  
“Master…” Genji said, pulling himself together as tears dried and burned on his skin.   
  
“I...I have so much to thank you for, and nothing to show for it.”     
  
Zenyatta hummed, “You owe me nothing but your own peace, my student.”   
  
“I want to show you something.” He said quickly.   
  
The monk tilted his head, but nodded quietly.   
  
A sting of panic hit him, hands clasping nervously in front of his chest as he wrung them momentarily, clinging to the threads of motivation.   
  
“When I lost my body, I was torn to shreds, it is a miracle I clung to any life.  I lost almost all of myself that day...and the moment I was given one, I hid behind a mask of shame and regret.”  He gazed toward the ground through his visor, “Literally.”   
  
Zenyatta, giving him his full attention, nodded in understanding, “It is easiest to shield what we are ashamed of...the pain of loss often comes with mechanisms to mask it as it lingers far longer than most pain.”   
  
“I want to show you.” He said, again, too quickly.   
  
“Show me?” The omnic questioned, not following immediately.   
  
“My face--my real face...or what is left...I feared it for so long--I--don’t even remember how it looks.   Even now I’m not sure if--I don’t want to startle you or cause you discomfort with--”   
  
“Genji.” Zenyatta reached out, placing a hand on his fretful ones, “You have nothing to fear with me.”   
  
The cyborg tensed, then calmed under the touch, nodding.   
  
Hands reaching up, the releases activated with a sharp hiss, inside of his mask fogging briefly with the sudden drop in temperature.  Cupping the front with his hand, he caught it as it came loose--hesitated--then pulled it away.   
  
The sting of the cold air bit harshly, even with his eyes closed, and he had to give himself a breath of confidence to open them.  Blinking in the light of day filtering into the open windows of the room, colors washed out before settling and clearing as his vision accustomed to the light.   
  
His first sight was of Zenyatta, standing before him, gaze fixated on him and he grew nervous.  Heart sputtered in his chest, finding that seeing him with his real eyes was a far greater burden than he expected it to be on his spirits.     
  
Still--he felt it was right to share this with him, he believed in the shred of hope his path of fate had shown him.  And even if it did not go the way he expected, he could not regret dropping his fears for his Master.  He took a final breath, and pulled the fabric that covered his mouth away, breathing out and watching his air take form in front of him.   
  
It was only his face, but he felt naked.  Sharing what he was so ashamed of, but learning to accept, to the object of his affections no less.   
  
The artificial hand of his mentor on his cheek radiated a warmth that he was not sure was real or the natural comfort that he knew of him.  But he savored it, leaned into it without hesitation, the scarring of his skin could not negate any of the feeling it left.   
  
“I can see the light in your eyes, your story, the happiness and tragedies...your soul is there and it is beautiful.  There is nothing about what I see that alarms me, besides the pain you have been caused.”  Zenyatta’s voice seemed filled with...something heavy, and Genji could have sworn there was a lilt in it.    
  
An overabundance of emotion, and he wondered if this was his mentor’s soul aching for his, he felt the empathy in his words.   
  
“Thank you, Master.”   
  
“Thank you...Genji.”     
  
• • •   
  
Zenyatta drew his hand away as Genji once again concealed his face, the brief hints of a flush on his cheeks covered quickly as the mask was returned once more.  And the monk felt if he had lungs, they would have seized at that time, his processors reacting intensely to what he witnessed.   
  
In Genji’s eyes, he recognized the deeply held struggles of the life he had lived, the pain and anguish of betray and loss of what he once knew.  But none of that struck him quite as much to what he saw that screamed louder than the suffering behind it all the moment his student looked at him. He could see, without a doubt, the way the Genji felt for him. It was etched in his very soul, on the rise of his cheeks as his smile lifted them, the way they lit up at the sight of him and got lost in his gaze.  Genji cared for him beyond what he had ever expected, beyond what he had ever known.   
  
These feelings rested solely on him as he still had yet to understand his own.  An unexpected burden that he had not been prepared to feel worsen just seeing it in his eyes.  A powerful and steadfast heart that had already decided it’s fate, strong but brittle, in  _ his  _ hands, the only weakness for which it could be shattered to pieces.    
  
And it frightened him.   
  
Days after the incident, the monk remained troubled, though did his best to conceal it in the presence of his growing student.  Genji was gaining confidence and stability as the days past, regaining the scattered shreds of his dignity little by little.  Zenyatta was pleased, thrilled even, at his progress.   
  
But in direct opposition to the climb Genji was making, the monk was faced with the declination of doubt and fear.    
  
Within that doubt, one truth resounded crystal and clear that shook all of his being.   
  
Genji was in love with him.    
  
And he wasn’t in love with him in return, or at least, he didn’t think so.  Truthfully, love was a feeling he’d only heard of, spoken of even, seen between two that had stars in their eyes.  He’d been privileged to witness love in action numerous times and could say that he had given forms of love to those around him.  But sharing kindness to others and witnessing love second hand was not the same as the experience of looking someone in the eyes and knowing without a shadow of a doubt they were in love with you.   
  
He remembered before, Genji resting on his lap and clinging to his hand, the fears that budded in his soul at that time.  But he had not taken them seriously, he knew that, he regretted it.  And he realized it was because of something far deeper than his worries that he could not care for the cyborg that way.   
  
Zenyatta, too, struggled to accept his own worth.   
  
And it was an admission, a “mea culpa” to himself of faults he’d never explored.   
  
He feared he was not what Genji sought, that perhaps his affections only bloomed out of the ebb of his loneliness, that he could not really fall so deeply for an Omnic such as himself.  A being of metal and wire...cold, skinless, expressionless.   
  
Everything that Genji was not, despite his mask, despite his apparatus that replaced his body.   
  
Zenyatta believed he had a soul of his own, but that was no replacement for the contact of humanity, the comfort of a smile and the heartache of sharing tears.   Not to mention the physical touch of human skin.   
  
He had taken a walk in solitude to reflect, and soon found himself facing the temple.  Raising his gaze to greet it, he took in the sight of the monumental Omnic statues that hovered along the pathway, topped with snowfall.  Imposing, powerful, but retaining a humility in their meditative states.    
  
All same, all uniform, he was like them really.  Very little set him apart from the omnics of this design.   
  
He laced metal fingers, the sound of a sigh resonating from his vocal synth.  Artificial, an action made by habit, a vy to feel and appear more natural and living.   
  
The monk was conscious of the fact that his doubt conflicted with his beliefs and preaching.  That the possession of a soul, and therefore the humanity of a being, was not defined by how they appeared or how they were made.  And yet, despite his strong held belief, the antipathy of the world towards Omnics affected his own thoughts of himself.   
  
In that he couldn’t  _ blame _ humans for finding Omnics unnerving.   
  
He wished for the dubiety in his mind to fade, finding it confounded his thoughts and toxified his feelings.  It caused him to forget his own worth, his personal traits that made him unique, the scratches and imperfections, the coloration's, even the Jieba type markings on his head.  The monk knew that there was more to him that metal and wire, it should not be interfering with his thought process now.   
  
_ How did he feel about Genji. _ _   
_ _   
_ Because he did not know that he did not love him, or if it was just that he did not believe he should.   
  
The temple did not seem an appropriate place for his personal issues, but the iris was strong here and he felt he needed a guiding light of some sort.   
  
He stepped through, ready to find what he sought, if he could.    
  
Inside the sanctum, warm golden hues welcomed the weary and the downtrodden.  Zenyatta was not sure he was either of those, but at least this place was quiet and peaceful, bringing a sense of ease that made it easier for him to clear his mind.  It had been some time since he had walked these halls, but he did not need the full intensity of omnic energy radiating from this place.     
  
Making his way further, he stepped just outside again, walking across the stone with soft steps to look out over the sheer drop below.   
  
And that is where he sat himself, gazing over the thick clouds, admiring the way the mountain tops sprung up out of them.  Sitting here on the edge like this, it felt as if he was floating freely, suspended in the air precariously.  Unsure if he would fall or fly here indefinitely.   
  
Lacing fingers in his lap, as he was prone to do when in thought, he reflected.   
  
_ What did he feel? _   
  
He chided himself, it was of no matter how many times he asked himself if he did not spit out an answer.   
  
Genji’s face resonated with him, the depth of what he saw in his eyes, and how the smile that broke his scarred face caused his own spirit to tremble with joy.  Seeing the evidence of progression had made such an impact on him, the growing confidence on the face of someone who’d seen so much pain and suffering.   
  
And the way his devotion to him shown through, how it struck him like a blade to the heart.   
  
_ I have no heart _ .   
  
And yet, what was an actual heart -- but an organic pump, pushing blood through a system to keep it running. How ignorant it would be of him to accept that he had none, when what human’s called a heart was part of a soul, part of one’s very being.  At least in the sense of metaphor.    
  
A small bout of laughter bubbled up from his core, and he gazed upwards towards the graying sky.   
  
It was odd, really, using his own methods of reasoning on himself.    
  
He’d always been confident in his soul, but he didn’t realize that perhaps he lacked in an entirely different area of self-assuredness.  And the acknowledgement of that area of lacking was dependent on such a random occurrence of events, that he’d never given himself the opportunity to think about it.   
  
But Genji had managed just that happenstance, and now the omnic monk was forced to consider the implications of being inhuman.    
  
He would be lying if he said he cared for him any less than a human in his position would.  He wasn’t lesser in the way he perceived and shared feeling.  If he were...to feel the same, being an omnic would not diminish the strength of his feelings.   
  
Genji’s eyes kept coming back, recorded in his memory banks, coupled with the disarming smile he had shared with him.     
  
He had dropped his guard, and become vulnerable.   
  
Zenyatta tensed, knowing he had not been able to do the same, having remained reserved and self-contained.  While urging Genji to open his insecurities and fears to him. The omnic had never really thought of his own inhibitions.  And now, he was suddenly plagued with them in the onslaught of emotions he’d been struck by.    
  
His smile…   
  
Fans whirred to life, his body trying to keep up with the overworking processors and he felt a wave of embarrassment as steam released from vents, looking back in alarm to assure he was still alone. His head fell into his hands and he had a moment to lament his indignity, at least it was in privacy.    
  
Resting his faceplate to his laced fingers, he hummed quietly.   
  
_ ‘Am I losing myself to a fleeting emotion? Or...have I just been holding these feelings hostage for his sake.’ _ _   
_ _   
_ Bringing himself to a meditation poise, his synth replicated exhale, metal slats of his back shifting into relaxation.   
  
He had to recall everything that had happened, and recall himself in that time and place.     
  
_ How do I feel? _   
  
• • •   
  
_ He happened upon the cyborg on a summer’s afternoon, he was wandering aimlessly mumbling to himself, fists clenched so tightly at his sides that the monk wondered if he would break his own metacarpals with the pressure exerted on him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Despite his brisk walk and his closed off demeanor, Zenyatta felt drawn to the stranger. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He had been so enthralled with the turmoil of energies radiating off of him, having tried to get a closer look, that he had not noticed the danger lurking nearby.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ That is, until the cyborg, on reflex, leapt into action.  Twisting on his feet and lunging forward--right past him at lightning speed weapon drawn.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ When Zenyatta had turned to witness, the beast had already drawn last breath and lie still on the ground. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He had been careless, and the stranger had unwittingly saved him from danger. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ At the sound of a blade sheathing, he gave his attention to the other, who had just noticed his presence.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “What do you want?” He spat. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zenyatta felt he should be taken aback, but if anything, he was more intrigued. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I was simply curious, you are a cyborg are you not? What brings you so far from--” _ _   
_ _   
_ **_Shhck_ ** _   
_ _   
_ _ The sharp sound of the blade settling deftly into place silenced him, per the cyborgs intention. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I have nothing to say to you, you do not know me, it is not your business” He hissed, turning to continue his journey--with no destination. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The monk hovered momentarily, choosing his words carefully. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Then, I suppose I shall have to learn, so that I may satiate my intrigue.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Tch, you’re wasting your time.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zenyatta smiled, “Time without gain is simply a lesson learned, not wasted.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He sensed the other found that annoying, but he no longer protested, and he took that as his go-ahead.  He would accompany the troubled soul, he would learn about him, learn to understand what made him so distanced from the world around him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ If he only knew his name...in the end that would satisfy him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ To know what to call the aura that reached out for him and drew him along without any desire to turn away. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Deep down, despite the others cold nature, he sense that he was lonely.  Why else did he not turn him away?   _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then again, perhaps he was projecting his own loneliness onto him, was he being selfish? _   
  
_ In the end, wherever he went, Zenyatta would follow. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Why are you still following me?” The cyborg demanded one day. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The monk was thrown off balance, scrambling in his mind for his reasoning.  Why was he still there? They had hardly spoken and the other had not warmed to his presence in the slightest.  He could have left, he should have left.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ But--he couldn’t, not really.  Nothing had inspired his spirit to journey elsewhere. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I am drawn by your troubled spirit, and I found your aura burning a hole in the universe around you and seek to repair it.” He settled on, quicker than it felt. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The other seemed completely unaware of the distress he had caused. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “My thoughts are not your business--” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Of course they are not, I have kept my nose clear of them.” He joked, before he could stop himself. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Oh, the cyborg had certainly not liked that. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I suppose I am interested in the conclusion of your long journey, my friend.” He concluded, once their discussion had failed to be fruitful.   _ _   
_ _   
_ _ None of what he said were lies, but none of it felt like the absolute truth either.  What business did he, a monk who had left behind the teaching of his brethren, have trying to save this man or follow him to the ends of the Earth--it seemed? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It was even more simple than that, he wanted to know him, and he did not know why. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Still, the other did not send him away, to his relief. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ While they played words back and forth, Zenyatta settled on an excuse, that perhaps he was drawn to help this troubled soul.  That his purpose here was to guide him to self-discovery and acceptance of a body he did not ask for. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Genji.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zenyatta found he liked that name, it resonated in his core, and the iris within him warmed to it’s sound. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Genji…” He repeated, finding it sounded right somehow, “I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He found he was so elated to the opening channels of communication, that he could hardly take time to think of why he was there. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Their journey had taken a positive turn, and the things he had started to say to express his amazement of the cyborg. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I, for one, marvel at the butterfly, as well do I marvel the caterpillar.  But the beauty in the butterfly is that it came from such small beginnings, and it deserves to be praised for surviving that change.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “It seems you have gained your wings my pupil.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Words of praise seemed to be leaving his synth more often, intimate and personalized, thought out with care to accurately describe his student.  He wondered if they were too much? But the cyborg did not seem to mind, so he did not resist the ‘poetry’ as it came to his mind. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It came quite easily when Genji was the subject matter. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ After the incident in the village, despite all he did to provide warmth and ease in his life, he still felt guilt when his companion expressed disappointment at having not been given the healing energies he had given to that boy.   _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He could not deny him anything, it seemed. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Two months and four days.”  The words came out before the embarrassment could stop them. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He didn’t remember anything after that--the darkness taking him.   _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The next moment, he was waking up in Nepal, and his fellow monks were praising the Iris to his survival. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Genji--” He said, the first word from his mouth, “Where--is he.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ His synth was damaged, they insisted he be patient while they repair it. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Wher--” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “We will send for him.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He was alive, relief overwhelmed him and he silenced to allow them to do their work.  And seeing him made the wait worth it, just barely.  He slept again. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Genji’s presence brought him to, and he remembered the brief suspension of time as they met gazes, both fearing for the other’s life.  Both eased to see their fears could be dissolved. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Genji--” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Alive and well, as he hoped.  His voice betrayed his relief, he had to carefully contain the lilt that threatened to crack his already struggling vocals. And amongst their talking, his comfort and reassurance, the cyborg’s distressed and apologetic babbling.  He realized it then, Genji’s blooming feelings. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He had been afraid.  Because hearts changed, feelings changed, things did not go as planned. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Nobody could predict the future. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And so he had held it all close, and silenced it.   _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Because behind all of the uncertainty and doubt, what he truly feared the most was falling hard and then... _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And having to say goodbye.  _   
  
• • •   
  
Zenyatta gasped as the meditation gave way to the jarring conclusion and he had to catch himself from folding over, hands splayed on the ground.  He gasped, a hand lifting to his chest to press against it, feeling that his processors had stopped everything.  Like a heart stopping it’s beat in the wake of overwhelming emotions.   
  
“It’s too late for me, isn’t it?” He said, volume of his voice barely reaching a level that could expel sound.   
  
How could he love someone properly, when he was already in a predisposition to let go.   
  
Catching his ‘breath’, the omnic pulled himself to his feet, brushing snow dustings off of his knees.  His gaze fell to his hand, feeling the phantom weight of Genji’s fingers clasped in his from before, and he closed it trying to grasp the memory.  Make sense of it, how it made his thoughts race and his being tremble.   
  
Chance brought them together, choice kept them intertwined.   
  
Now it all rested on him.     
  
Genji had made his choice.   
  
And really, hadn’t he made his choice all along?    
  
_ ‘Wherever he goes. I will follow.’ _


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”  
> ― Emily Brontë

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My reasons for taking so long are at the end of the chapter if you are interested. I apologize profusely for the delay and perhaps awkward chapter, but I am very excited to finally get back into writing again ♥ Thank you for your patience!

_The dragon twisted through the skies, seeking it’s way through the dark, wounded and lost.  While it’s body was renewed, it bled somewhere deeper in it’s broken heart and the skies cried out, drowning its agony in downpour._ _  
_ _  
_ _It was terrified, and consumed with blind rage that roared from its lungs._ _  
_ _  
_ _After the winds blew it far off course, forgotten and distant, and it had lost all the strength to stay afloat, it gave into gravity and plummeted to the earth.  The impact shattering its surroundings like glass, breaking the remains of its reality into a cold, empty void._ _  
_ _  
_ _There, he lie, defeated and destitute.  Spirit shattered with no idea how to pick up the pieces, how to put them all back together._ _  
_ _  
_ _Feeling like a monster now more than ever._ _  
_ _  
_ _The ache of loneliness had ebbed the sense of self out of his soul for too long, and now he wanted to finally rest.  But fear kept him here, grounded him, and he gazed, mournful at the stormy skies._ _  
_ _  
_ _A golden light blinded the scenery, settling to a glow that was warm and inviting.  It spoke to him, called to him, and started moving on. The dragon cried out, clawing uselessly at loose, wet soil.  The light traveled further, fading in his vision and he could not reach it--he could not follow--a darkness held him down.  Subdued him._ _  
_ _  
_ _It did not return, it did not slow and wonder why he did not follow, why should it._ _  
_   
_Surely, nobody in this world would look upon something so ruined._  


• • •

 _  
_ In spite of all of his proverbial wisdom, Zenyatta found that words ran dry when it came to his own emotions.  Not the intuitive things, like the beauty of nature or the warmth of the sunlight, appreciation for the world around him and those who inhabited it.  He could describe those until words no longer had meaning and expressing his admiration for life became stunted.   
  
He found wonder in many things, many places, many people.   
  
But when it came to the absolute awe that he found within Genji, he was rendered speechless.   
  
All of the flowery language in the universe could not aptly express to the cyborg how he cared for him, beyond the normal bounds of caring for someone you wanted to see happy and successful.  And the potency of his revelation for this specific feeling made him a might bit unstable.   
  
The monk had never felt the effects of over processing, but he feared at times he was near shut down.  The conflicting struggle within him causing his robotic body to not perform as optimally as usual. Stopping in the middle of hallways, dazed and distant, unaware of others around him who would briefly observe his bizarre behavior in passing.  Sometimes he would go to the edge of the cliff sides and consider if this is what falling felt like, and seriously consider just letting himself drop to see if he could overpower the twisted tangle in his wiring with that pure adrenaline.   
  
And it was worse, when Genji was present.   
  
The finality of his meditation, and the desire to be near him, had driven him forward with confidence to return to his pupil.  Only to be struck dumb when he was face to face with him again, images of his face recorded on repeat in his mind, smiling--eyes bloomed with love.     
  
And now, whenever they meditated, whenever they roamed the village and met others, he knew that Genji only spoke so much to fill the space of his own silence.  He knew Genji was confused and could not possibly understand what had his mentor so contemplative and silent. He knew, without a doubt, Genji would sit at night and likely blame himself--spend more time alone to spar with a dummy and mentally reprimand himself for his feelings.   
  
Zenyatta didn’t want him to, but he didn’t know how to say it.     
  
What he felt, transcended words and actions, and everything lost reason when he was with him.  Except the desire to stay by his side at all times.   
  
Unreasonable, improbable; but oh, how it tore him up and burned him out to be away from him now.   
  
He felt...foolish.   
  
_Do you think your feelings are foolish?_   
  
His own challenge, spoken to Genji before, rang clearly in his mind.   
  
The easiest way would be to explain everything to Genji, but he felt that was too much information, that it dulled the meaning and purpose.  That would destroy a chance for a moment to be meaningful and poignant to them both. He really shouldn’t be so afraid, he already knew he would not be rejected, he was the one who had done the rejecting.   
  
He could not even fathom what that did to Genji.   
  
Which made the matter all the more sensitive on how he should approach it.  Because it would not be unfair of Genji to doubt him, if he shared these feelings after expressing he did not before.   
  
For now though, he had to clear his mind, and be a proper mentor to his student.

Speaking of…  
  
• • •   
  
Breathless, Genji rushed over the rooftops of the Nepalese village, cursing his foolery.  He’d slept far longer than he anticipated, plagued by nightmares, and he knew he’d missed their usual morning meditation.   
  
And when he stumbled to a stop in front of Zenyatta, who stood waiting in their usual place, he bowed low to him apologies already spilling from his tongue.   
  
“I am sorry, Master, I overslept--forgive my lateness I did not mean to keep you waiting.”   
  
He felt that he heard a lilt in Zenyatta’s voice, that perhaps he was laughing at him a bit which made his face burn.   
  
“Apology accepted, my student, there are still many hours left in the day and you do not need to fret over one.”   
  
Genji straightened, rubbing the back of his neck as he averted his gaze--unnecessary seeing as it was nigh impossible to tell where he was looking, but he felt like Zenyatta always knew.   
  
“I will not make the same mistake--”   
  
“Mistakes are inevitable, Genji, learn from them and accept that learning takes time, takes routine.”  He could feel his smile, “But, I do not believe you will be late again. Please, it is in the past now.”   
  
Zenyatta hummed slightly, in thought, and Genji finally found it in him to look at him.  Though it always threw him off balance, taking his breath away to view the other in the light of day--as comforting and peaceful as ever.   
  
Though he had seemed troubled the past few days, and it did make him uneasy as he wondered if it was him bringing it upon him.   
  
“Perhaps, due to the nature of repetition, your mind is becoming complacent.  There are other ways of learning and it has been some time since we walked together.”   
  
The cyborg perked, confusedly, at the Omnic’s suggestion.   
  
“You mean--you don’t wish to meditate today?”   
  
He shook his head, “You have come far in that area, my student, you’re much more aware of your spirit and planting your roots to climb the tree that represents your life.  Why not put that to use in other activities?”   
  
“Just a walk then?”   
  
“Whatever would please you, Genji.”   
  
Heart fluttered at the sound of his name, and Genji lowered his head, rubbing it again sheepishly.   
  
“I would enjoy a walk with you, Master...it has been some time.”   
  
He left it there, biting his tongue.  So many things he wanted to say threatened to spill from his lips but he held them, not wishing to cause the other unnecessary guilt.   
  
_It has been some time since we talked, really talked.  Since you poetically spoke of the beauty of the world. Since we talked of stories--mostly of my past because you are always so interested in what I have to say.  Since we stood side by side, walked close because you know I feel safe there...since I’ve heard you laugh at my attempts to humor you._ _  
_   
It has been some time…   
  
“Then I believe a casual stroll will do us well.”  The monk said with resolve, turning to begin, “Tell me about your progress Genji, tell me everything.”   
  
Behind his mask, the cyborg felt his eyes burn with moisture, and he quickly trotted to his side.  Letting the words spill from his lips, the gratitude of his soul palpable as he shared his heartfelt words with his beloved mentor.     
  
• • •   
  
The time was well spent, walking together through the village, chatting idly after the words of his improvements had run dry.  Zenyatta was graced as Genji began sharing stories from his childhood.   
  
They were strained at first, uncertain and soft spoken, and he had difficulty speaking names even when the stories flowed smoothly.  But regardless, the monk learned more about his life in a few short moments than he had in all their time together…   
  
Specifically--about his brother.   
  
And that’s when he gathered that this brother was the one he held the most pain in remembering.   But he wanted to, he wanted desperately to remember things as they were, when times were simpler, happier, when they were still brothers.   
  
He thought for a moment of his “brothers” here, who’s warm presence in his life he had always greatly cherished, of Mondatta, whom he respected upmost despite their differing views.  Of all those he had been touched by in his life and considered family. Certainly, it was difficult to imagine what the severance of such a bond would do, especially one of blood. While he had pulled himself away from the structure of the Shambali teachings, he had done his best to not leave with ill feelings and any sense of betrayal.   
  
Genji had suffered something truly traumatic, curiosity ebbed at him as the monk wondered why, but it was not his place to pry on such a sensitive topic.  Especially one that seemed to leave him so unbalanced.   
  
His thoughts shifted as Genji suddenly spoke up about food.   
  
“I used to spend my days at the Rikimaru Ramen bar, it was my favorite place to eat! The chef would get so frustrated--I would eat three or four bowls in one sitting.  He would chase my brother and I away when we were younger sometimes, I think one time he might have even put something in our food, we both had such terrible stomach aches that day.”   
  
The cyborgs laughter reverberated throughout his being, Zenyatta nearly gasped in alarm at the feeling, quickly covering it with soft laughter of his own.   
  
Genji seemed to appreciate that, rubbing the back of his neck, a little quirk the monk had noticed he did whenever feeling sheepish or flattered by his approval.  He wondered if he had done that always? Or if it was a new development, something that had come from his transformation and lack of self-confidence.   
  
He wondered a lot about Genji now, the little quirks in his personality, the way he held himself when he walked or when he spoke about something that brought him joy...the way--   
  
“Master? Are you alright?”   
  
Zenyatta stiffened a moment, where had his mind wandered?   
  
“Ah--yes Genji--I’m sorry, you were saying?”   
  
Genji’s head tilted, and embarrassment washed over the monk as he recognized he had certainly been mistaken.   
  
“I didn’t say anything but, I’ve noticed you have been strangely silent, Master.” He noted, concern and self-doubt lacing his words, “Have I offended you?”   
  
Zenyatta cursed his own slip-up, “No, my pupil, not in the slightest.  My mind has--not been my own lately. I apologize if it has been causing you distress.”   
  
“N-no Master!” Genji said, all too quickly.   
  
It had.   
  
“Genji.” He said firmly, “It is alright if you have been bothered by it, I owe you my full attention and I apologize I have not given it.”   
  
Zenyatta sighed, feeling Genji’s inquisitive gaze on him, the other had grown so aware of him and differences in his demeanor.   
  
The tables had certainly turned.   
  
“If something is on your mind, Master...I hope it does not seem to forward but, you may confide in me...if you are not confident though I--”   
  
The monk chuckled, “I absolutely trust you, Genji.  It is--” He cupped his chin, “I’m sorry, I seem to be having trouble putting my thoughts into words.”   
  
Chuckles bubbled from the cyborg, building into laughter that caused him to double over.  Zenyatta wanted to laugh with him, but also felt an embarrassed burn in his core--and he desperately begged his form not to emit steam to compensate for the overheating.   
  
“I-I’m sorry, Master.” Genji bowed with a mixture of amusement and shame, “it is just--you never have difficulty with that?  You are always so articulate and expressive with whatever comes to mind, so I can’t help but find it funny that you, of all people, are struggling with words.”   
  
The monk hummed with amusement, tilting his head, “I sense you have just been dying for me to slip up in some way, my student~”   
  
Genji chuckled sheepishly, shrugging as he rubbed his neck again, “I was just wondering if you could possibly be anything but perfect at all times….then again, this didn’t exactly convince me otherwise.”  He could feel that he was smiling, “If anything, it just made me feel I can relate to you more.”   
  
“I am as faulted as any being that has conscious, my student, but I am flattered at your undying faith in me.” He chuckled, “Even if it is misguided, I do not know everything and even my own mind evades my understanding more often than I’d care to admit.”   
  
“Maybe those faults just--add to your perfection, it only makes me ador--admire you more.”” Genji said, and Zenyatta could instantly hear the sigh, watching his gaze avert as he turned his head away...regretting it.  Because anyone could tell he was being overtly flirtatious.

  
He observed him, thoughts spiraling as he took in everything he saw; the way Genji shifted from one foot to the other, held himself with a posture that could only show how sheepish he was at how easily he slipped into his feelings.  Zenyatta found his shyness endearing knowing that he didn’t used to be that way, the way he spoke of his past, he had been brazen and proud. Flirting was like second nature, and when he told those stories, he would get embarrassed they had slipped past his tongue, and Zenyatta knew he worried that he sounded like he was bragging.   
  
If anything, it made him wonder how Genji would act if he _knew_ he was free to express his emotions, if he wasn’t worried about causing the other distress.  If he was aware that the feelings had become mutual--would he become more forward? Would he share gestures of romance that were as cheesy as they were sweet?  Would he speak words of love to him softly, when they were alone.   
  
_Oh--oh no._   
  
The monk covered his face in a very human gestures of fluster, and he could feel Genji’s eyes on him.  This was ridiculous, why couldn’t he just _say_ it?  No matter how strange it sounded, no matter how he worried that Genji would feel it was too late, or too convenient?  He wouldn’t know, if he didn’t tell him how he felt.   
  
“Genji, I’m--”   
  
There was a blinding light in his mind’s eye, and the iris burned brightly inside of him--in one single, painful resounding flash of gold--that melted into an inky violet darkness…and then there was nothing.   
  
  
_Something was very wrong_ .   
  
‘ _Master…’_ _  
_ _  
_ _Something was_ **_horribly_ ** _wrong._ _  
_ _  
_ _‘Master--stay with me..’_ _  
_ _  
_ _The Iris, it was calling out, crying in pain as something shook the universe and it called something back into it’s light…._ _  
_ _  
_ **_‘Master!’_ **   
  
When he came to, he was slumped in Genji’s arms, his pupil holding him tightly to metal chest and he could hear it--beneath the protective surface--the frantic heartbeat of someone fearful and desperate.   
  
“I’m--here Genji--” He said, synth soft and broken by static.  He lifted his hand to pat the side of Genji’s face-plate softly, “I am alright…”   
  
The cyborg breathed a sigh of relief, holding him tighter for just a moment, faceplace pressed to the top of his head in a moment that should feel endearing and warm.  But uncertainty and confusion filled Zenyatta’s mind now, a weight on his spirit and an emptiness in his chest that was too heavy to ignore.   
  
“What happened?” He asked--unaware of what the experience looked like from the outside.   
  
“Umm…” Genji said, hesitating, as if he didn’t know how to describe it.   
  
“You froze, the lights on your head started glowing incredibly bright...and your orbs were glowing gold and spinning...twitching….you looked like you were in a trance…”   
  
Zenyatta could tell he was shaken, he stroked the curve of his faceplate that would be approximately where his cheek rested, “Take your time...please.”   
  
Genji nodded, clearing his throat, “The light went dark, really dark and I suddenly felt heavy remorse, pain--it--it wasn’t like the time you healed me with those.  It twisted everything in my head and made me feel heavy and weak--then all of the light stopped. And you collapsed--it was just as before when you--”   
  
He choked on a sob, and Zenyatta shushed him softly, understanding, “I am alright now, Genji, I have not been harmed…”   
  
Looking about, seeing his orbs scattered about, he summoned omnic energy again to bring them back to hover around him again.  He gifted some of that light to Genji, hoping to ease some of the pain he had suffered.   
  
“I am sorry,  my student, I myself do not know what happened.”   
  
He did not know how to calm his worries, but hoped at least the warmth of harmony flowing through him would comfort him some.   
  
“Master Zenyatta!”   
  
A voice interrupted the thoughts, and he turned towards the sound, slowly sitting up with the assistance of his student.  Another omnic monk stood, stance anxious and uncertain.   
  
“What is it?” He asked, gazing up but feeling he already knew they required him.   
  
“You are needed, I am sure you already know but it is a matter of urgency.”   
  
He was silent for a moment, trying to prepare himself for whatever was to come if he followed the other omnic.   
  
“Very well.” He slowly got to his feet, knowing that he would have to leave Genji behind for the evening, he turned to face him when the other stood up.   
  
“Here.” He said, taking one of the orbs and slipping it into his hands, closing them around it as it emitted a warm, golden glow.   
  
With his hands over the others, he felt the connection, the tie between them.  And he felt a moment of disdain for the iris for taking this moment from him, but there would be another time.  And at least--he could give Genji this solace, to show the other how he cared for him.   
  
“Keep this with you, it will help ebb the distress of what you have experienced, at least until I return.  Keep your thoughts in the light my student, it will give us both strength.”   
  
The orb would connect them, the iris would keep their hearts close, because he feared that something was about to shake the balance.   
  
“I will return as soon as I find out what has happened, Genji.”   
  
He pulled his hands away with reluctance, and took his leave.   
  
• • •  
  
Genji was left in silence, staring blankly after his Master as he faded from his vision.  Hands still felt warm from where the other had touched them, but more prominent was the ache in his heart that was filled with confusion.   
  
He was terribly worried, he had felt the iris from the other, and then he had connected with him somehow--because he had reached out and grasped his hand in fear.  And that is when the darkness had come, the emptiness, the spiral of all doubts filled his mind and left him disoriented.   
  
His dreams of late struck his thoughts and he held the orb close to his chest.     
  
“Please give me solace.” He whispered to it, “Please show me a dreamless night.”   
  
Forcing himself not to follow, to wonder what was going on, to fret about it.  He returned to his quarters.   
  
When Zenyatta knew, he would come to him, he would tell him what had happened just then.  He would try not to worry about it until the time came.   
  
He would try...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Personal// Content Warning: Abuse]  
> To my wonderful readers: Thank you so much for those who have waited so patiently. For the past four or five months I've been struggling in a very abusive job situation, the past months have been hell trying to convince myself to get out of a place that has gaslighted and manipulated me so much that I didn't know what was right or wrong for me anymore. I've suffered both mental and physical health issues that completely ruined me as a person, I lost all desire to do anything creatively, and would spend most of my days sleeping. 
> 
> I'm finally out of it, it's been a roller coaster but I'm ready to get back to doing the things that I love. I don't know how smoothly it will go but I genuinely am happy to be writing about this again! So thank you to everyone who has patiently (or even impatiently~) waited ♥


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